Your Ad Here
by RRfan4life
Summary: When Rachel Green answers the roommate wanted ad of one Ross Geller, neither expect what is to come. [AU, complete]
1. Chapter 1

Your Ad Here

**Story Line: **When Rachel answers the roommate wanted ad of one Ross Geller, neither expect what is to come. AU

**A/N: **This is my newest fic, all of which has been posted on Friends Cafe so far. It, unlike "Secret Feelings" when I was posting it, remains an unfinished fic. However, the first ten chapters or so are written at this point. So, at least those should be quick updates. I hope you guys enjoy the story :-)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the characters, as much as I'd desperately love to own my dear Rossy. They are, however, the creation of Bright/Kauffman/Crane productions.

* * *

"Hello?"

"Hi, is Janine there?", a deep male voice filled the reciever.

"Um, I think you have the wrong number."

"Oh, I'm sorry." A clank, then dial tone.

Rachel turned her attention back to the computer screen in front of her. A twenty-six year-old, beautiful young woman with long honey-colored hair and a fit body most women would give an arm for, and she was at home on a Friday night. Playing solitaire on her computer.

Again.

She sighed to herself as she gave up on her latest game, hitting the "Deal" button. She made a face of disgust at her cards but attempted to play nonetheless. 'Wild night I'm having,' she thought bitterly to herself. Rachel couldn't even remember the last time she had a date. Well, she could, but she couldn't remember having a good time. This moving to the city business was a lot more work than she thought it would be- and living by herself in the big apartment bought for her by her father wasn't very fulfulling. All her girlfriends were back in Long Island, living in grand mansions with their rich husbands that were doctors. Rachel couldn't understand it; she knew none of them were had any remote feelings for their spouses. All trophy wives and money providers and fun things to show off. She almost gagged everytime she thought about how she almost married Barry, the orthodonist her parents had set her up with. Thank God she got out of that.

Frustrated, she shut off her laptop without even exiting her game. She paced her front room, thinking of possible things to do. Call a friend? Oh, she couldn't do that. She didn't think she could bear to sit and listen about the latest gossip from the gym back home, or the big shopping spree at Macy's. Of course, shopping could get her excited jut like any other woman, and Rachel loved fashion, but . . .she didn't feel like she fit in with this crowd anymore. She needed something new.

Going off the whim of the moment, she grabbed the New York Times that was sitting on her kitchen counter. She flipped to the classified section; upon seeing the ads various people sent out in search of a new roommate, she got a thought. Maybe someone new to live with, someone she could reinvent herself for, be a completely new person. She ran her finger down the page as she browsed the names, reading the ads that accompanied them.

". . .no, I don't like cats . . .oh my God, not her . . .'non-smoker, non-ugly'? You've got to be kidding me . . ."

She sighed, not seeing much that would interest her here. She almost gave up, until one small ad at the bottom caught her attention.

"Ross Geller," she read aloud, and stopped to consider. He sounded like a decent guy- late twenties, divorced, works in the science field. 'Hm,' she thought. 'He doesn't sound so bad.'

She decided to give the guy a call tomorrow. She retired to bed early, absentmindedly flipping on the television in her bedroom. Rather than watch the program that was on, she sat back against the headboard. 'Ross Geller.' She wondered what he looked like. A science guy- probably with glasses. Might be real dorky, like the kind of kids she used to pick on in high school. Ugh, there was her past, creeping up on her again.

She made herself a promise- even if this guy was the ugliest man on the face of the planet, that if he was a nice guy, she'd live with him. Assuming he accepted her as his roommate, of course. But she would stick it out- no matter what her ex-cheerleader mind tried to tell her.

-----

"Has anyone answered your ad yet?"

"No, not yet. But it's only been a day, you know?", Ross replied hopefully. He was out to lunch with his younger sister Monica, the two enjoying the freedom and sanctity that Saturdays often bring. "I just hope I don't get, like, a freak or anything. Or anyone who'll touch my dinosaur stuff!", he added.

Monica laughed lightly. "I doubt anyone's gonna want to touch that." He shot her a look, but she just continued their conversation. "I just wonder who will answer. It's so funny how Joey's making this a competition, isn't it?"

"Yeah, although, it's Joey, you know? He'll probably get some really hot girl and I'll be stuck with some geeky science nerd."

Monica looked at him funnily. "You _have_ looked in the mirror lately, right?"

"Ha ha," he said sarcastically. "But seriously, I would love if like, I don't know, this amazing girl answers my ad. I know it's a long shot, but I'm just so sick of being single! I mean, I was so insecure after finding out about Carol. Even _she_ got a woman! Why can't I?"

Monica laughed again. "Someone will come, Ross. I wouldn't worry. You're a great guy! I'll be honest, the dinosaur thing isn't exactly a turn-on with women-" he looked at her, hopeless, "- but once someone takes to time to get to know you, I don't doubt that you will have someone amazing there. You're sweet, kind, loyal. You have nothing to worry about, sweetie."

"Thanks, Mon," he said, completely sincere.

"Anyway, I doubt you'll find the woman of your dreams through a roommate ad," she added as a joke.

"You never know . . ."

-----

Ross returned home an hour later, throwing his jacket on the couch. He rolled up his sleeves, prepared to battle whatever that green stain was on his bathroom wall. However, he noticed his answering machine flashing- four messages. 'Who's calling me?', he wondered. 'I only hang out with about four people . . .'

He pressed the play button. "You have four new messages," the machine said. "Message one . . ."

"Hey Ross, it's Chandler. Me and Joey got tickets to the Knicks game tonight, if you want to come. Front row seats, man! Give me a call."

_Beep. _"Message two . . ."

"Hi, Ross Geller? This is Candy . . .uh, Sexygirl! I'm just answering your ad . . .what, Monica, it's funny! . . .Yes, he'll think it's funny! Oh come on, you're such a killjoy! First, you don't let me play 'Little Black Curly Hair' when you know I want your opinion, and now this! You just suck the fun out of everything! . . .Um, never mind Ross. Bye!"

_Beep. _Ross rolled his eyes as the messages continued. "Message three . . ."

"Hi Ross, it's your father, just double checking to make sure you're coming to lunch tomorrow. Your mother saw Carol the other day, she said she's looking really happy with Susan! Just thought you should know. A woman at my work is a lesbian, you know. Well, I'll see you tomorrow!"

_Beep. _"Message four . . ."

Ross lost hope on any of the messages being particularly important. But just as he began to walk towards the bathroom, an unfamiliar silky female voice came out of the answering machine. He stopped cold.

"Hi, uh, Ross Geller? Um, my name's Rachel Green, I just saw your ad in the paper. I was wondering if, maybe, by some chance, you'd maybe like to meet me? You know, to potentially be your roommate or whatever . . . Okay! Well, uh, think about it and if you could give me a call, that'd be great. Um, my number's 555-2487, and the name again is Rachel Green. I live by myself, so, uh, you'll either get me or the answering machine. So yeah. Um, I'll talk to you later maybe!"

_Beep. _"End of messages."


	2. Chapter 2

Your Ad Here

**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews everyone! I hold a very special place for this fic right now, I'm almost finished with it at FC and I've never been sadder to end a fic. But at least I can continue posting it here :-) So I'm glad you guys enjoy it. It gets more exciting, I promise!

* * *

"Did she sound hot?" Ross rolled his eyes. He was holding a conversation with Joey as they waited in line to buy hot dogs at the Knicks game. Chandler was holding their seats to make sure no one took them.

"Joey, I don't know," Ross lied. Only he did know. The voice, however nervous or unsure it sounded, was just the most adorable, sexy female voice Ross had ever heard. He just couldn't get it out of his head. He wanted so badly to hear it again, but he was too frightened to return her call.

"Well, call back and see! Man, if I had some hot girl calling _me_-"

"I don't know if she's hot, Joe."

"Only one way to find out!" The eagerness in his friend's voice and eyes was beginning to bug Ross, so he grabbed his hot dog and started in the direction of their seats without even getting ketchup. Joey rushed to catch up, but only after dumping some of every condiment offered onto his hot dog.

The game continued, the Knicks were up by ten. The guys stood in a line- Chandler in between Joey and Ross. Ross had been curiously silent since getting the food, which definitely didn't go unnoticed by Chandler. He'd known the guy since his early college days, and knew what it meant when he didn't speak. Something was bothering him- and usually, it was a girl.

"Just call her, man," he yelled at Ross over the crowd, so sure that he was right that he didn't even bother to look at Ross while saying it. "It's just someone who wants to be your roommate."

"Yeah, well . . ." Ross stopped himself. Well what? He wasn't sure. Chandler looked at him this time.

"Look, you don't even know if she's hot. You don't even know if you'll get along with her! She just happens to be someone like you- lonely and looking for a roommate. She's not asking for marriage or anything, Ross. And anyways, she'll probably run a mile when she sees your dinosaur crap."

Too deep in thought to even attempt at having a retort, Ross just kept his eyes on the game. "Fine, I'll call her," he said, his indifferent tone playing exact opposite to the growing excitement and curiosity in the pit of his stomach.

-----

She'd freaked him out.

That was the only explanation Rachel could come up with to explain why this Ross guy hadn't called her back. She'd sounded like a complete idiot in her message, and he wanted someone smart and sophisticated, like he probably was. That _had_ to be it.

Of course, she didn't even notice her exaggerated paranoia. It had only been a day since she'd called- he could be busy, out of town, etc. She had no idea. All she could think about were how her flaws could have provoked it, and she'd never even met the guy. But she couldn't deny the intense curiosity she already formed over him. The way he sounded on his answering machine . . .just a simple, "You've reached Ross Geller, I'm not here, so please leave a message." She'd never heard a voice mail recording actually sound sincere- and, to be truthful, she wasn't even sure how that worked out. All she knew was his detached voice alone was enough to send her to complete putty, babbling like a moron on the other line. She had to mentally kick her own ass for that one.

Without realizing it, Rachel had become more obsessed with hearing back from Ross then she'd even been about any other call. She ended up sitting with the phone in her lap the previous night, pretending to watch TV but stealing glances at it every few minutes. What was it about this stranger that already had her attached? It couldn't be healthy.

But still, she waited by that phone more than a teenage girl waiting for her first boyfriend's call.

-----

Ross entered his apartment, quite exhausted from being at the game. The entire cab ride home, he couldn't stop thinking about what Chandler said. It wasn't like he was calling some girl back that he'd just gone out with- it was some stranger looking for a roommate. Maybe someone just as lonely as he was, looking for a friend in a big city. Looking for love in a non-traditional place. Whatever it was, the anxiousness of finding out was killing him. He didn't even care that it was nearly ten at night- he crossed the room to the phone, his heart pounding.

His fingers were shaking as he dialed her number, his body jerking slightly as he held it up to his ear.

_Ring ring ring . . ._

Rachel stared at the phone sitting in her lap, slapping her forehead for not remembering to grab the one with caller ID. Still, she had the answering machine in her room, and decided to screen the call. No use getting all upset over nothing, right?

"Hi, you've reached Rachel Green . . ."

Ross wasn't even disappointed that he got an answering machine- he got to hear that voice again. And, if possible, it sounded even more adorable and cute and sexy than it had before. The added confidence of the simple recording made it all the better.

"Um, hi, Rachel? This is Ross Geller . . ."

Rachel's heart momentarily stopped. She stared in complete paralized fear at the answering machine, until she realized what a big deal she was making out of nothing. She didn't even know what this guy looked like. She attempted to shrug off her uneasyness, picking up the phone a little more eager than she would have liked to admit she was.

"Hi, Ross? This is, um, Rachel."

"Oh, uh, you're home?"

"Yeah . . ."

"Oh, well . . ."

The two sat in silence for almost an entire minute, soaking up the reality of the moment. They were talking to each other for the first time, and were already so infatuated with the sound of the other's voice . . .

"So, um, do you think you could meet me?", Rachel finally asked, breaking the silence. She wasn't even sure where the question came from, or the courage to say it. Maybe the impact of the long silence . . .or the need to hear his voice talk back to her again.

"Oh yeah, the roommate thing," he replied lamely, having forgotten about that the second she'd picked up the phone. She laughed nervously. "Um, sure, we could meet if you want."

"Well, it's your apartment, not mine."

This caused Ross to smile; this girl didn't miss a beat. "Yeah, I'd like that. Rachel Green, was it?", he asked, even though he'd known the name by heart within the minute he'd heard her first message.

"Yeah," she replied, smiling into the reciever. "And you're Ross Geller."

The way she said that had been so completely adorable to Ross. So innocent, so unknowing of just how much of an impact her every word was having on him. "Yeah, I am," he answered. "So, uh when do you want to, um meet? I know this, uh, great coffee shop in the Villiage."

This was starting to sound like a date, and even though Rachel knew it wasn't, not to mention how stupid he'd probably think she was for thinking this at all, it excited her. "That sounds good. I'm free around noon tomorrow."

"Great! That's when my lunch break is. Okay, um, the place is called Central Perk . . ."

Rachel listened intently, scribbling down the directions Ross gave her. She was just so amazed at how silkily smooth his voice seemed to be. The most amusing thing was, when giving directions like this, his speaking was so articulate. But when he was talking to her, in regular conversation, he seemed to stumble over his words like a child. It had to be the cutest way she'd ever heard a guy speak . . .even if voices were never something she particularly paid attention to. This boy's voice seemed to demand attention.

"Okay, I'll meet you there," she said, barely able to keep her growing anxiousness to herself.

"Yeah, it's a date," Ross replied, before he could stop himself. He scrambled to recover. "I mean, uh, it's not a 'date', per say . . .you know, it's just a lunch date, without being romantic in _any_ way, and-"

"Ross?", she interruped him. This adorable nervousness he had was just breaking her heart right there. "It's just coffee."

He could tell she was smiling into the phone, causing him to smile himself. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah. Bye."

"Bye," he almost whispered, before hanging up the phone.

Rachel hung up as well, a goofy grin still on her face. She hugged her knees to her chest, squealing at the idea of having coffee with this guy. Those few sparse minutes with him on the phone were the most exciting minutes she'd shared with a guy in a long time. Maybe ever. The fact that she hadn't even seen him yet only reassured her of this intense feeling- maybe she really was getting over her past. She didn't need the superficial looks or the excess amounts of money.

Apparently, the guy just had to have a heart-melting voice.


	3. Chapter 3

Your Ad Here

**A/N:** Okay, well I was gonna wait til this weekend to update again, cause I was hoping that maybe the story would catch on a little more. But I realized that it's just a hectic time of year so I might as well just update :-) So here y'all are

* * *

Rachel looked herself over in the mirror, slightly embarrassed as to how overboard she seemed to be going on this. It was, like she said, just coffee. Coffee with a stranger to see if she could share his apartment. A stranger who was getting more attractively mysterious by the second and whose voice was enough to send powerful chills up and down her spine. Still, she felt that she had to look good. She chose a simple black tank top, low cut but only exposing a tasteful amount of cleavage. It had white beads sewn on the neckline, which got Rachel out of the mad rush for a necklace- one wasn't needed. Her jeans rode low on her hips, faded on her thighs with a small tear on the knee. Rather than go for her regular gym shoes or flip-flops, she decided to go the sophisticated route with black pumps.

She wasn't sure why she cared so much, but she just cast those thoughts aside. She could look however the hell she wanted to. So she continued getting ready, straightening her silky hair with a flat-iron. She brushed on some natural- but not too light so it couldn't be seen- eyeshadow on her eyes, followed by some simple brown mascara. She smiled at her reflection and nodded, satisfied with her appearance.

Strolling out into the cool afternoon air that was expected in a New York October, she decided to run back up to her apartment to grab a coat. Unable to find one, and desperate to not be late, she grabbed a red zip-up hoodie sitting on her couch. That would have to do for now.

Her blood pumping fastly through her veins, she hailed a cab, gave the driver the directions, and held her breath as the taxi journeyed into the city.

-----

Ross sat in Central Perk, holding a table for two near the back. He anxiously checked his watch again- 12:05. She was five minutes late. Out of all the possible reasons this might be- something as big as a huge car accident or as small as a slow clock- the only one he could pu this finger on was him. Maybe he didn't sound like the great guy she might have thought he was- or then again, maybe he _wasn't _the great guy he thought he was.

He attempted to bury his face in a newspaper, but really couldn't help but glance at the door every two seconds. Was she even coming at all?

Almost to answer his question, the door burst open. In rushed one of the most beautiful women Ross had ever seen. She was slender, with long shiny hair the color of golden honey and a warm, even tan. She hurried over to the counter, Ross's eyes on her the whole time. He'd never seen this girl in the Villiage before- just who was she? As a few seconds went by, he found himself aching to know more about this mystery girl.

"Hi, I'm here to meet a Ross Geller," she told the employee, Gunther. She was out of breath, panting as if she'd run a mile to get there.

Ross's heart literally skipped a beat in his chest. _This _was Rachel Green? If it was possible, she was even more ridiculously beautiful and sexy than Ross could have ever imagined . . .as much as her voice did to him, it just didn't even do justice to her in person.

"Um, I'm Ross Geller," he said, standing up in his seat.

She spun around, flipping her hair over her shoulders to look at him. He didn't even look close to what she had imagined- it was even _better_. He was lightly tanned, his hair messily gelled spiky, his defined muscles noticable even under the light dress shirt he had on. She somehow remembered how to smile, and she walked towards him to extend her hand.

"Hi . . ."

All of a sudden, both of them seemed to forget how to speak. Ross was incredibly captivated with the blue of her eyes, almost as deep as the ocean itself. It made it physically impossible to look away. At the same time, Rachel was already being floored by his warm, deep chocolate eyes, reminding her of a basset hound puppy she once saw in a pet shop window. So completely inviting . . .

Ross shook his head, perhaps attempting to knock some sense into it. "So, um, would you like a coffee?"

"Oh yeah, s-sure," she stammered, being brought out of the peaceful reverie. She reluctantly let go of his hand, realizing that the shake had been over long ago and they had been standing for almost a full minute, basically holding hands. She blushed as she took a seat at the small table. 'You don't even know him, calm your ass down,' she told herself. However, there was still the other half of her brain, and that part was screaming, 'Wow!'.

Ross sat down, handing her the coffee and smiling like an idiot. Only to Rachel, it wasn't idiotic- it was almost childlike. There was something very endearing about this boy that already had her attached to him, and wanted to know everything she could about him.

"So, um, you're looking for a roommate?", she asked, then realizing how completely stupid it sounded. Of course he was looking for a roommate- why the hell else would they be here?

"Uh, yeah, I am," he answered. His eyes had been on the table, almost scared to look into hers again. However, he now looked up to meet her face. Her amazingly gorgeous face . . . "I guess I've just been lonely lately, you know?"

'Nice one, big guy,' he sarcastically yelled at himself. 'Just pour out your life story, why don't ya.'

"Yeah . . .I guess I have been too," she answered, much to his surprise. She caught notice of his raised eyebrows, and giggled nervously. "What?"

"Nothing, it's just . . .how is it possible that you're lonely? You don't have a boyfriend or _anything?_"

"Not for ages," she said, giving him a sad smile. "Guess I just got sick playing the game, ya know? It doesn't seem worth it."

"Yeah," he lied. He had to remind himself that she was here for being his roommate, and he had to ask questions about that, "So, um, I guess if you want to be my, uh, r-roommate," he got more nervous by the second, "you should tell me about yourself." There, he said it. He finally asked what he'd been wondering ever since he first heard her on his answering machine.

"Oh, well, I'm twenty six-"

"You're kidding me."

"No, I'm twenty six . . .why, do I look older?" She looked almost fearful at the thought.

"No! No, no, not at all. You just don't look a day past, maybe, twenty two."

She laughed, hiding a massive blush attack. "I wish. But yeah, I'm twenty six. I have a small position at the Gucci headquarters downtown, but nothing too big because I don't have a college degree. I tried the college thing, it just wasn't for me." Ross smiled at her honesty; this girl seemed really genuine. But now, she looked at him curiously. "Well, that and the fact that I could never find a damn parking spot." They laughed together. "What about you?"

"Well, I'm twenty seven, and I work as a paleontologist." At her confused look, he decided to explain. "I study the history of dinosaurs, basically. I have a phD in it, and I work at the natural history museum downtown."

"Oh, I've never met a paleontologist before. Could we be any more different?" She laughed, causing him to join her. Her giggle was almost infectious.

"No, I don't think we could be." He smiled. He loved how quickly their encounter had turned from awkward to comfortable; God, this felt so comfortable. Sure, he was fidgety, and he was self concious, but there was just something about her. She was addictive; he couldn't help but stare at her. And, for some reason, he noticed that she kept staring at him. But whenever he'd catch her, she'd look away quickly, hiding an embarrassed smile.

She glanced back when he wasn't looking. While the mystery of Ross Geller was partially solved, she was still completely captivated by him. So much more to learn- she hoped to God that no one else had answered his ad.

"So, do you wanna see the apartment?"

-----

The pair walked side-by-side around the block to Ross's building. To anonymous passerby on the street, they seemed like an oddly-matched couple. A strikingly beautiful young woman, trying so desperately hard to hold in a giddy smile, and a dark, almost brooding young man, looking like a lost fourteen-year-old on his first date, with the hands at their sides brushing together, but both too shy to actually initiate anything. Despite all the strange occurences observed in the two, there was absolutely nothing that would tear people from the notion that it was two people on their first date with each other. You would never know it was two detached people, little more than strangers, one just having happened to answer a simple newspaper ad of the other.

They were silent until they reached Ross's apartment, not quite sure what to say. Ross openned the door, which went into the living room, and showed her the adjoining kitchen to the side and two bedrooms in back. It really was a nice place, and Rachel couldn't help but giggle at all the dinosaur things in each room.

He made her a cup of coffee, then scolded himself. They had just come from having coffee. Despite that, Rachel accepted the mug warmly, giving him a grateful smile. She sipped at it as they sat together on his couch, unsure of what to say again. This silence continually rose between them- and Ross liked it. It maybe have been full of questions and curiousity and wondering, but he didn't care. He was sharing it with her.

However, eventually, the air called for an attempt at small talk. She glanced at the watch on his wrist, noticing it was thwo in the afternoon already.

"Oh, God, how did it get that late?", she asked. He then looked at his watch.

"Dammit, my lunch break was over about an hour and a half ago," he chuckled, smiling at her. She smiled back.

"I guess I'll get going."

"Yeah . . ."

They both rose simultaneously, as if with one mind. She crossed over to the door, and he followed her.

"So do we get to be roomies?", she joked sweetly.

"Well, I haven't really had any other calls. So I think I can give you an early prediction and say yes." He smiled.

"Great."

They looked at each other intensely for a moment, before Rachel surprised him by leaning in and softly kissing him. It only lasted a few fleeting seconds, but it was one of the slowest, most drawn-out kisses he'd ever recieved. And possibly, the most anticipated.

When they pulled out of it, he noticed her cheeks were not tinted a soft red. They smiled sweetly at each other, letting the silence once again take over. She waved a goodbye at him as she left the apartment and descended down the hallway. It was all he could do to not chase after her, begging for more. Instead, he settled on watched the slight swagger of her hips as she disappeared into the stairway at the end of the hall.

"Rachel Green . . ."


	4. Chapter 4

Your Ad Here

**A/N:** Thanksss to everyone reviewing :-) I really do love reviews, hehe. Now this fic, I think, will end up being around 15 chapters. I have finished all but the last already, so I'm pretty sure it's around there. Just to let y'all know that, lol. Sooo here's chapter four :-P

* * *

Back to the joyous work of waiting by the phone.

Rachel couldn't understand the situation she was in, and frankly, she didn't care to figure it out. She had no idea what this strange infatuation with the soft-spoken boy was. And yet, here she was, cancelling plans to go out for dinner with a few old friends just so she could wait for his call. She needed to hear his voice again, she needed the affirmation that it wasn't just all one big, hazy dream.

She needed to feel his lips again . . .

She shook her head quickly, attempting once again to pay attention to the television screen in front of her. She was thinking crazy thoughts ever since the unexpected kiss two nights before. Ross was still a stranger to her- unknown territory. And, somehow, this fact that should make her want to draw away kept pulling her back in. The unknown used to frighten her- now it excited her, seduced her like she never expected.

Although, maybe it was his eyes that had seduced her. They had the strongest presence in her thoughts; so deep, intense . . . Rachel couldn't even think of words to begin to describe them, words didn't do them justice. Words didn't do _him_ justice.

-----

"She _kissed _you??"

"Well . . .yeah." Ross smiled his boyish smile, a mixture of embarassment and pride.

"Oh, God, that's _so_ romantic!"

Ross sat in the kitchen of his sister's apartment, having a chat with her and their friend Phoebe. As his story of the indescribable Rachel Green unfolded, it seemed as though the apartment was torn into two halves. One half was exuberant, bubbly, and completely immersed in Ross's story. The other side was logical, critical, and somewhat disapproving of what was being revealed.

"Ross, you have to be kidding me." Yup, Monica took the cynical side. "You don't even know her!"

"Yeah, I do!", he shot back. " . . .kinda."

"What does she do?", Phoebe asked, her voice practically quivering with enthusiasm.

"She works at Gucci."

"Wow." Phoebe was in complete amazement.

"Ross, you have to get your head straight here. I think you're getting a little carried away. In any normal situation, I'd tell you to ask her to dinner. Get to know her better, but this? This is just crazy! You can't date your roommate."

"She's not even his roommate yet!", Phoebe argued.

"But if I know my brother, she _will_ be. Ross, please, either let her be your roommate or ask her out. Don't do both."

"She wants a roommate, though. I can't turn her down then expect her to go out with me!"

"Then be there for her," Monica said. "As her _roommate. _As her friend."

"Fine, whatever." Ross wasn't convinced. What did Monica know? "But wait- _you're_ dating _your_ roommate!"

"Chandler and I started dating first, like most normal people, Ross."

"Yeah, yeah." He paused to think about his sister's advice. "Well, I'll call her this afternoon."

"You seriously take the fun out of everything, Mon," said a disappointed Phoebe.

-----

Rachel dove for the phone the second she heard it ring, not caring about how much of a lifeless idiot it made her look. Not that she thought Ross would mind, if he'd even notice . . . if it even was him.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Rachel." It was him. Rachel's heart began racing, pounding so fast inside her chest that she was almost sure he could hear it through the phone. She was driven into a momentary stupor, not quite sure what to say back. Thankfully, he continued. "Well, you can move in, if you want." He couldn't even conceal his immense content at saying this out loud.

"I got it?", she asked in a rush of excitement. It was like a young adult getting their first job.

"Yeah," he smiled. "You want it?"

"Yes!" She stopped a second, realizing she was practically squealing. She attempted to calm down. "When can I move in?"

"Whenever you want."

She thought a moment, remembering her father's offer to get her moving assistance. It had to be on . . ."Does Sunday sound good?"

His eyebrows shot up in surprise; that was really soon. Only four days away. Was she already prepared for this? "Wow, well, yeah. I guess. You want me to get my friends to help?"

"Oh, well, my dad said he'd get me movers. This is so great! I'll see you then."

"Yeah, I'll get the apartment ready."

-----

After three days of mad rush between his job, his friends, and preparing the apartment for Rachel, Ross was practically bursting with anticipation. It had been almost a week since he'd last seen her- which was a week too long. He had a deep desire to learn everything about her, to talk to her, to look at her, to touch her . . .

Monica watched from the sidelines with a disapproving gaze.

The day Rachel was to move in, she took him into the hallway outside his apartment. "You're not going to do anything crazy, right? Like ask her out or kiss her or something?"

He noticed the sincere worry she had in her eyes, and knew she was just trying to protect him. "I won't, Mon," he promised. An empty proposal, but he said it nonetheless. "Now you guys should go, she said she has help so . . ."

"Yeah, we will." Monica called Chandler, Joey, and Phoebe out of the apartment, and the four began the travel to the familiar orange couch and cappuchino scent of Central Perk.

Not long after, movers showed up, driving a small truck. They told Ross that they were to deliver Rachel's things, but she was no where to be seen. Ross helped out, carrying the heavy boxes full of her clothes and other miscellaneous things. He questioned the movers what seemed like every ten minutes, wondering where Rachel was. None of them knew.

It was an hour after they left Ross sitting in his living room, now full of cardboard boxes, that the doorbell rang. He opened the door, his trembling hand causing the doorknob to jiggle, and saw her. Only now, she looked different . . .

"Hi," she smiled. He welcomed her into the apartment, taking in her appearance. She had on a simple white t-shirt with ratty old jeans and flip flops. Her hair was thrown up in a messy, non-chalant bun, a few loose strands framing her face. So completely the opposite of the dolled-up Rachel he'd met before; if possible, he liked this Rachel even more.

"Well, I guess we're roomies now." Ross smiled painfully, embarassed at his lame excuse for a joke.

"Yeah, I guess we are." She couldn't even try to wipe the grin off her face. She noticed his biceps bulging slightly out of his sweater as her nervously shifted back-and-fourth on his heels. Maybe he was just as nervous and excited about this as she was. "I'll just move my stuff into my room."

Ross helped her carry the heavier boxes from the living room to her bedroom in the back. No words were exchanged for quite some time, the comfortable silence once again settling between them. Every once in a while, they would catch each other's glances, or smile. Both were wondering if the other was gonna bring up the kiss; both were secretly hoping someone would.

When they were done, Rachel flopped onto the couch, flipping on the TV but really watching Ross out of the corner of her eye. She couldn't believe that she was actually living here, able to see this guy every day.

When Ross retreated to the kitchen, he watched her silently from the door. She'd already made herself at home, making her even more appealing. This "I-don't-care" Rachel was possibly the most ridiculously sexy girl-next-door that Ross had ever seen. Screw 'possibly'- she _was_. Monica's advice now little more than a distant memory, he decided to throw caution in the wind.

"Hey," he said, walking into the front room. Rachel looked up at him. "Wanna, I don't know, grab a bite to eat or something?"

She smiled.


	5. Chapter 5

Your Ad Here

**A/N: **Aww, so I've actually just wrapped up this story at the Friends Cafe. It's really sad to see this one end, because I dunno... I like really grew writing it. My writing grew. At least I think :-P

And guys, I would really love it if you left reviews, haha. Thanks to those who are :-) I just wanna know if you guys like the story and where its going. Not that it can change cause its already done, but still haha

**This chapter is rated R.**

* * *

Ross led Rachel down the street to a small, late-night cafe. It was already nine, but he was starving from helping move boxes all day. It was a small diner, the neon lighting around the windows flickering, threatening to burn out. Before they reached the door, he noticed Rachel shivering.

"You cold?"

"A little," she admitted.

He smiled, and took off his sweater to let her wear it, leaving himself in nothing but an old button-up t-shirt. Sure, he'd be a little cold, but as long as _she_ wasn't . . .

"Thanks." She blushed a little, and he helped her pull the sweater over her head. It was huge on her small form, swallowing her up, but Ross found it adorable. He'd have a hard time ever asking her to give it back when she looked like that in it. They continued the last block to the cafe, where Ross opened the door for her. She shivered as he followed her inside, his hand brushing against the small of her back.

They sat at a table near the window, surrounded by other empty tables. Ross noticed the few other people in the restaurant; the assorted men looking lost in life, sitting on the bar stools at the counter; the group of teenagers, loud and unobservant of the other customers, except for a couple in the group who looked like they had been together forever but couldn't be more than sixteen years old; a family consisting of two parents in their young thirties, with a daughter they were completely infatuated with. So many contrasting faces . . .

"So . . ."

Ross looked up, realizing they had been sitting for about five minutes, and all he'd done was stare at others.

"Sorry."

She smiled sweetly, picking up a menu to look for something to eat while drawing his sweater closer to her body. God, it smelled so good; must have been him.

A waitress came shortly, asking what they wanted to have. Rachel ordered a diet coke and fries, Ross ordered a root beer and hamburger. When the waitress left, Rachel took the chance to find out just who Ross Geller was, exactly.

"So, what else is there about you I don't know?"

"Well, what _do_ you know?"

She smiled. "You're twenty-seven, and a paleontologist, and you work at the museum."

"Well, there's not much else to me." He chuckled. "I grew up in Long Island-"

"No way, so did I!"

"Get out! I've never seen you before, you know, all this . . ." He studied her face again, and was positive that he'd never seen her before the other week. She must have gone to a different school or something. "Well, I have a younger sister, Monica. We're a year apart. Um, she's dating my best friend Chandler. Uh . . ."

He thought about the most prominent part of his past- the divorce from Carol- and he debated in his mind whether or not he should tell her.

"Your ad said you were divorced. What happened with that?"

Ah, so she remembered. No turning back now. "Yeah, her name was Carol. We dated in college and got married at, like, twenty-two. But three years later, we had a bit of a rocky patch, and . . ." He looked at her; she was still listening to his every word. He decided to just come out with it. "She turned out to be a lesbian."

Rachel's eyebrows raised; she had definitely not expected that responce. "Wow . . .I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he said with a smile. "If it weren't for that, added onto the fact that I'm completely hopeless with woman and have been pretty much on my own ever since, then I would never have needed a roommate."

She smiled back.

"So, what about you?", he asked.

"Well, what do _you_ know?", she returned, like he had.

"You're twenty-six, you work at Gucci . . ." He hesitated. "And you're the most stunningly beautiful girl I've ever seen."

Rachel's eyebrows raised again, despite the fact that her eyes just got teary. This guy was really getting to her, and fast. How was it possible that someone this adorably sweet was single? It just wasn't fair to him . . . or the women missing out.

"Ross?", she said softly. "Okay, um, remember that kiss after I left your apartment?" All he could do was nod; his heart was racing at the fact that she brought it up.

After he nodded, she took a deep breath. Her arm reached across the table, taking his hand in hers. She leaned forward, planting a kiss right on his lips. Despite the shock, Ross found it in himself to kiss back. It lasted longer than the first kiss, though not by much. Ross was in complete heaven . . .

When they pulled apart, they smiled at each other. She squeezed his hand. Just then, the food came. They ate their meal, somehow getting through it still holding hands the entire time. It seemed so natural. They just talked, laughed, gazed, and smiled. So simple, and yet . . .so much.

When they were finished, Ross paid the bill, insisting that he was allowed to treat his new roommate to her first meal in the Village. She smiled and thanked him. They left to walk back to the apartment, still hand-in-hand.

-----

When they got through the door of the apartment, they weren't exactly sure what to do. They finally let go of each other's hands. Ross excused himself to his bedroom, saying he was really tired. He wasn't tired at all- just scared of what could possibly happen here. He didn't want to get too carried away.

He lay on top of his bed, not bothing to change clothes yet, and flipped on the small TV in his room. He heard the door creak open; Rachel stood there, in a small white tank top and flannel pajama bottoms, her hair down and wavy, holding his sweater.

"Here, want this back?"

He smiled, and held out his hand for her to bring it to him. She walked over to the side of the bed, handed him the sweater. She almost walked out, but Ross grabbed her wrist.

"Why don't you hang out in here a little while? I'm not that tired anyway."

She grinned. "Sure."

He patted the place next to him on the bed, and she took the spot. As if by instinct, she cuddled to his side, wrapping an arm around his stomach and resting a cheek on his chest. He took notice, shyly wrapping an arm around her back. They lay there almost an hour, watching some random program on tv. When it got to be eleven, he switched the tv off with the remote.

"Hey," she said, faking anger. "I was watching that!" She raised her head, resting her chin on his chest and looking him directly in the eye.

"Yeah, so?", he joked back. They smiled at each other, both really loving how comfortable this was. They could really live with this roommate thing. However, after a few moments, the smiles faded into serious looked. Their eyes were locked on each others' . . .

Rachel leaned forward and kissed him again. It wasn't much different from the last, except the mood. This one was leading somewhere. She pulled away, looking him in the eyes again, then bending down to kiss his neck. He kissed her forehead, and she rested her cheek against his chest again. Her arm moved down to the bottom of his shirt, playing with the bottom button before undoing it. Both of their hearts began racing, Rachel noticing his irrational breathing underneath her. She made her way up, unbuttoning his shirt, and pulling it open when she was done. She ran her hand down his chest to his stomach, then leaned in to kiss it, making a trail down.

He closed his eyes, letting his arm slide far down her back, his hand going into her pants and cupping her ass. She reached for his belt buckle, undoing it painfully slow. Before she could pull it open, Ross rolled them over so she was lying beneath her. He leaned in, kissing her neck, sucking on it and nibbling before he reached to the bottom of her tank top. She ran her hands through his hair, over his back, anywhere she could reach. This all felt so impossibly good, moving slowly, as if a hazy, late-night dream . . .

He pulled her shirt up over her head, running her finger down between her breasts and to her stomach when it was gone. He leaned in, kissing her chest, then her neck, then her ear. He then rubbed his nose against the soft flesh of her cheek, moving across until it met her nose, then finding her lips for another kiss. This one became much more intense and deep than its predecessors, both opening their mouths and allowing their tongues to battle fiercely. She reached for his shirt, pulling it over his shoulders and off. He tugged at her pajama bottoms, casting them aside as she reached for his jeans again. He helped her pull the zipper down, pulling them off completely.

The only remaining barriers were his boxers and her underwear. A few more moments, and those were gone too. Ross re-positioned himself on top of her, swooping down to kiss the curve between her neck and shoulder. She kissed the side of his head, rubbing her hands down his back, beckoning him to continue. Carefully, he slide completely into her, causing her to groan.

"Are you okay?", he asked; the first words spoken since they'd begun. She nodded, kissing him on the mouth, pushing her hips forward. Ross began, slowly at first, though it didn't take long to increase speed. This was the first time in a long time for both of them. It only lasted a few fleeing, clumsy minutes before both were sent completely over the edge, Ross collapsing and releasing all his weight onto her.

They lay there in complete silence- no sounds to be heard but their rushed breathing, attempting to regain normal speed. This was all so crazy, irrational, and maybe even irresponsible . . . in short, everything they lacked and needed in their lives lately. When he could think clearly again, he noticed how small Rachel was, and rolled off her so he didn't hurt her. He brought her to rest on top of him, cradled in the circle of his arms against his chest. Their breathing became slow enough to regulate. He kissed her shoulder, tasting the saltiness of her sweat; this seemed to bring her out of the dream-like state she had been in.

"Wow . . .", she whispered. She lifted her head to look at him, and he smiled. She returned the gesture. "What is this?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "But I like it."

She smiled. "Me too."

She rested her cheek back on his chest, staring out the gap in the blinds on his small window. He rhythmically rubbed her lower back in small circles, gently ensuring her that he was there, despite the deep sleep he was drifting into.

"Goodnight, Rachel," he whispered, kissing her forehead. He felt her smile against his chest.

"'Night, Ross." She kissed his collarbone, buried her face in his chest, and allowed sleep to swallow them both up.


	6. Chapter 6

Your Ad Here

**A/N: **Ok, I'm gonna tackle some issues here, lol. Ross and Rachel going fast? Totally. I wrote this on purpose, and it is definitely intentional and integral to the story. Conflict has to come from somewhere, and that plays a part. Also, Ross and Rachel didn't exactly take things slow on the show. They had sex after dating about a week, they said "I love you" after 6 weeks of being together. I see that as part of their characters. They rush into things, they make rash decisions (Emma being concieved comes to mind, haha).

And the comment about unprotected sex- yes, that's an understandable worry. However, with this story being fiction, that's just what I did. Maybe it's not realistic, but the consequences aren't present in the story. Am I saying to have unprotected sex? Of course not. **Birth control is definitely important**, and I'm not trying to put out the message not to use it. So I'm sorry if that upset anyone, just please remember that this story is fiction. I'll remember to put up a note beforehand next time I have a chapter like the last. :-)

* * *

"Good morning New York! It's seven o'clock on October the 28th, and it is a fine day! The forecast is looking-"

Ross stirred, the gentle sounds of his clock-radio alarm bringing him out of his peaceful sleep. He slapped the alarm clock with a frustrated manor, though he really didn't have much to be angry about. Sure, it was 7 am on a Monday, and he had to be at work in an hour, but one sound calmed him more than any drink or pill could calm a person.

Her breathing.

It was steady, slow. Comforting. She was lying on her side, her back to his chest as he held her around the middle with one arm. The other, which had been supporting his head, was now stroking her hair softly. He even ventured a small kiss between her shoulder blades, which, sure enough, gently tore her from sleep. He wouldn't even have known she giggled without the slight shaking of her shoulders; it was a silent giggle. Laiden with exhaustion, comfort, and . . . wondering. What was next?

Slowly, she shifted so that she was lying on her other side, now facing Ross to look him in the face. Her eyes, big and blue, were curious. Intent on finding out just what they were to do with each other now. Softly, she stroked his arm with her hand, staring intently at it until she met his eyes again. She loudly exhaled a breath she hadn't even known she was holding in.

"What now?", she barely whispered.

"I don't know," he admitted. "This has never happened to me before."

"Me either." They averted their eyes from each other, taking in the magnitude of the situation. However, as in their brief past encounters, their gazes found their way back to each other. "What time is it?"

"A little after seven." He yawned. "I have to leave for work in, like, an hour."

Her face twisted into one of thought, silently deciding which path to trek on.

"We should talk when you get back," she finally decided on.

"You don't have work?"

"No, I do," she chuckled. "I'm just not the best employee." He eyed her, almost surprised at the notion of skipping work. She laughed at his boyish nature. "I'll go in late, I'm so tired."

"Yeah, just go back to sleep," he cooed. He took one hand, and put it to her face, softly stroking her cheek. She half-smiled, in complete amazement on how this didn't seem strange in her mind at all. It felt like home, despite the fact that she'd known this guy an entirety of one week. Despite the fact that she hadn't even slept a night in her own room at this home. Maybe it wasn't even the apartment making her feel that way; it was him.

She nodded, closing her eyes and letting it fall back on the pillow. Ross moved to get up, pulling the comforter more securely around her. He leaned in to kiss her forehead, but reconsidered, kissing her right on the lips. She wasn't even surprised.

"I'll see you later," he whispered. He retreated to the bathroom, feeling almost giddy. He hummed a jubilent, rousing tune in the shower, feeling an overall sense of euphoria. The same tune kept in his head as he dressed, taking care not to wake Rachel, who had fallen back asleep in his bed. His eyes kept wandering to her; so peaceful, tranquil. He just could not get over the fact that seeing her face actually brought him comfort- genuine, sincere comfort. It almost scared him in it's magnitude. Almost.

Before leaving for work, he lightly kissed her forehead. She stirred, but did not wake.

And with that, he was off.

-----

Rachel woke up about an hour after he'd left. She looked around the room, taking everything in for the first time. She inhaled deeply- it even smelled like him. There were assorted dinosaur knick-knacks on the shelves, various certificates on the walls, pictures of his friends and family. She saw one on his bedside table, and picked it up to get a closer look. It was of five people on Christmas, on the old, orange couch of the coffee shop she'd first met Ross at. Upon analizing the photo, she realized the man sitting on the side of the couch was him. His arm was around a girl who looked about Rachel's age, with long, jet-black hair and clear, blue eyes. That must have been his sister. On the other side of her sat a blonde girl, a few years older than Rachel, dressed in billowy skirts and a flowing blouse. Hanging above them over the back of the couch was two other guys- one with messy brown hair, one with deep black hair and obviously Italian, both with blue eyes. This must have been Ross's "group".

Suddenly feeling like she was invading his space, she searched the room for her clothing, and retreating to her own bedroom. It was still quite bare and impersonal- while all her boxes were there, barely any were unpacked. She went through one, pulling out a new outfit for the day, bringing it into the bathroom with her for after her shower.

All the while, even during her light breakfast, she thought of him. Even when she faked being sick while calling her work. She was struggling with the concept of what exactly was going on- and finding herself liking the mystery of it more than the truth. Was it just two people, caught up in the moment? Or was something stronger, deeper, something she'd never be able to comprehend, behind this? She couldn't deny the fact that she wished it was the latter- hoped to God she wasn't being stupid. This couldn't have been an "in-the-moment" thing. It had to be more, it had to be real. It just had to be.

-----

Ross loved his job. Dinosaurs, prehistoric humans, _everything_. However, with it being a Monday, the museum was a bit slow. There was not much for Ross to do, and with all the down time, his wind wandered. Around her, around them, around his life in general. Did she fit in it? He decided that she certainly could- probably more than he could even think. She could be the last missing piece to his puzzle, the part that made the picture complete.

But all of a sudden, an worried voice entered his mind.

_"You're not going to do anything crazy, are you?"_

His sister's warnings began reverberating through his mind, sending doubt with them. What is Monica was right? He stopped to consider the logic of it, and, unfortunately, it made sense. Being roommates is something a couple customarily do after being together for a while and knowing, fully, the love, dedication, and loyalty behind their relationship. Hell, some couples don't even live together until an engagement, or even a wedding. It either made his and Rachel's predicament look like moving too fast. Either that, or just plain stupidity.

What if things _didn't _work out? He didn't want her to have to move; she filled his apartment with such light. It was definitely a nice change from the drab lonliness he had been living in before. Even if they ended on good terms, living together would still be awkward.

He rubbed his temples as he sat in the museum's cafeteria. All of this was so messed up, and he found himself wishing this had played out a different way. If he'd just met Rachel by accident, rather than this roommate thing, it would be free game. He could ask her out, they could build a foundation for a relationship. But this- this would just be way too complicated.

And yet, he couldn't deny that his strange feelings were growing faster by the minute. He'd never been so completely into a girl that he barely knew. Hell, he'd never even made love to his wife the way he had with Rachel. It both scared and excited him. But when these good feelings entered his mind, there it was.

That small, growing bead of doubt.

It would be a burden in him the entire day. It took the voice of his sister, nagging and commanding and poking and proding. The "what if's" drove him crazy, and the fear was spreading far worse than the excitement.

He couldn't handle this anxiety. He wasn't ready for it at all.

-----

With his head hanging down and his eyes staring at the ground, Ross stopped at his apartment door. He took a deep breath, almost scared to enter. How could he explain this without sounding like a total ass?

When he finally opened the door, he found Rachel watching television on the couch. She was wearing jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, sprawled out underneath an old afgan. The second the door opened, she sat straight up.

"Did you go to work?", he asked, confused.

"No," she admitted, a slight blush taking residence on her cheeks. "I called in sick. I wasn't really in the mood to work." She smiled at him sweetly, getting up from the couch to walk over to him. He looked in her face, knowing it would hurt even more to do this if he kissed her, but it was physically impossible not to. He took her hands, leaning down and planting the softest kiss on her lips.

"I need to talk to you."

'Uh-oh,' she thought. She'd never heard a man utter these words with the actual intention of a conversation. It usually foreshadowed something Rachel didn't want to hear.

"What is it?", she asked nervously.

He guided her over to the couch, making her sit beside him. He still held both her hands in his, playing with her fingers to try and stall. But he could hear her breath quicken with fear of what he could possibly have to say that was so serious. He slowly rose his gaze to meet hers, staring at her a moment before sighing deeply.

"I don't think this is such a good idea."

Rachel's eyebrows shot up. "What? W-why not?"

"Rachel . . .you're my roommate now. Do you know how complicated this could get?"

"So?", she asked naively, her big blue eyes becoming wet. "Ross, last night . . ."

"Last night was amazing," he assured her. "It really was. But, Rachel . . .I'm not reckless like that. I don't usually take chances."

"What does that have to do with anything?", she asked, frustrated.

"Rach, we're roommates. I don't want us trying something like this, because what if it didn't work out? What if something really bad happens, and we hate each other at the end? I don't want either of us to have to move or anything like that."

"What makes you think this 'really bad thing' is gonna happen?"

"I don't know, Rachel. I just don't want to risk it. Okay? I'd really like to be friends with you. Can you do that?"

Rachel sighed deeply. Why was he doing this to her? Maybe everything really did mean more to her than it did to him . . .maybe her oddly strong feelings so early on wasn't a mutual occurence. However, she didn't want to upset him, and despite her reluctance, she understood his logic.

"Yeah . . .okay."

"Really?"

"Ross, I can be your friend. That's fine. If that's what you want, that's what I'll give you."

She faked a smile only for him, as his face showed relief. He hugged her tight, silently thanking her for understanding. He held her hands limply at his side, attempting at returning the hug.

"I'm gonna go clean up, then I'm meeting some of my friends at the coffee house. Wanna come?"

Rachel shook her head, trying with all her might to not cry right now. "No thanks," she said, in a small voice.

"Okay. Well, then, I'll see you tonight."

He disappeared into his bedroom, and shortly after, Rachel went into her own. Her hopes had been too high, she'd gotten too carried away. She was not supposed to get this hung up over guys she barely knew, no matter _how_ right anything between them felt . . .

There was so much about her situation she couldn't, and probably never would, understand.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Ok, I don't know what else to say. Joey's eyes aren't blue? Ok, well, mistake on my part. That's not really something I focus on, so that doesn't bother me. With the birth control, I'm sorry, I just didn't write it in! If it makes you all more comfortable, I will write it in to any future chapters. I don't know what else I can do- what, you want me to write in Rachel getting an STD? I'll put warnings, I'll add it in, if it's really that huge a deal. Yes, I realize a serious matter, but this is just a Friends fan fiction. It's not like it's a Pulitzer Prize best seller that millions of people are reading. I really, honestly don't wanna sound hostile, but I'm just trying to make a point. But if it's prefered, I'll use condoms in my fics from now on (that sounds so funny, haha).

And yes, I realize that many parts in my story are somewhat under-developed. I'm sixteen years old, and I may be in a college level AP english class, but I have to work hard just to get a B. Analizing things is where I go wrong, and if I can't even analize stories that well, I'm not expecting too much writing out of myself that can _be_ analized. I would love to go back and try to further develop things, but that's just not what I do. When I finish writing something, it's set in stone. I don't change essays for school, stories, or anything once their written. So I'm sorry if things aren't up-to-par, but this fic is already done, and the door's been closed and locked. Anyway, once again, this under-development was partially intentional. Ross never really thought things through all the way. Not at first (not getting the annulment, proposing to Emily, chasing Rachel to the airport, etc). This rash decision in this fic is part of the conflict.

And I'm even sorrier that this entire note seems like an attack on Tina Chaves's review, LOL. I don't wanna like fight or anything, I'm just trying to state my points and, I don't know, explain my writing background. I respect your opinions, because, frankly, you're an amazing writer. (I am totally obsessed with Beautiful Release and And I Feel Home, _believe me,_ haha). I'm just replying to your comments, and I'll take them to heart for future fictions. I just have to say that there's not much that can be changed in this one, but I hope it's still achieving it's job of entertaining. :-)

Please, I really do appreciate each and every review. Don't be scared to leave one just because I reply to them here! LOL (BTW, I am going to be starting to post a new fic so I can put it up here while I'm writing it, rather than posting a finished fic)

A week went by- an uncomfortable week of awkward pauses and worried glances. They'd barely spoken in days. It was like the advice usually given to someone by a best girlfriend- you can't sleep with a friend without ruining the friendship. It seemed like their friendship was ruined before it was even given a chance to start. Moving as fast as they did always had its consequences.

But consequences don't last forever.

-----

"Can you pass the rice?"

Ross grabbed the cardboard carton full of rice from the foot of the bed, handing it behind him to Rachel.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

The pair, after a week of being insecure and self concious with each other, decided that being friends seemed to be the way to go. After all, they did live together, and there was no way either of them was moving out anytime soon. So here they were, eating chinese food in Rachel's room at seven at night in an attempt to get to know each other better. They realized that they had yet to go much deeper than age and occupation.

"Okay, so you never told me much about your family. What are they like?", Ross asked her, continued the game of ask-and-tell they'd been playing the last half hour.

"Ugh, not much to tell there. My parents are divorced. Daddy's a doctor, mom's living off his money . . .still." She made a face. "I have two younger sisters- Amy and Jill. Both are blonde, spoiled, and selfish. Need I say more?"

Ross chuckled. "Family is family, huh?" She nodded, joining in his laughter.

He glanced at his watch, and a thought came to mind.

"Hey, how would you like coming down to Central Perk with me? You can meet my sister, and my other friends."

"Is that everyone in that picture?", she asked, gesturing to the one on the previous Christmas that sat on his nightstand. He nodded. "Sure, I'd love to."

"Great. Let's go!"

-----

"You just took a sip of my coffee!"

"Obviously not, _yours_ is right there."

"That's Phoebe's!"

"Is not!!"

Chandler and Joey continued bickering over coffee on the old orange couch in Central Perk. Phoebe sat in a comfy armchair nearby, fingering the chords on her accoustic guitar and singing to herself. Monica, unfortunately, sat inbetween the arguing ones, and was becoming increasingly frustrated.

"Here!", she exclaimed, then taking a sip of all the coffees on the table. "Now it doesn't matter! Pick one to drink and shut up."

Meanwhile, Ross was leading Rachel into the door to the coffee shop. He cleared his throat loudly, and his five friends instantly slumped over into their seats, faking snoring and pretending to be asleep.

"Haha, very funny," Ross deadpanned. "I'm not talking about dinosaurs, I want you to meet someone."

His sister and friends straightened up, turning their attention to him now. They saw a woman standing behind him, not looking shy, exactly, but definitely misplaced. She didn't seem to know what to do; she was hiding behind Ross.

"This is my new roommate, Rachel." He stood aside so she could stand in their view, both Joey and Chandler staring, mouths agape.

"That is no fair!", Joey yelped. "My roommate isn't that hot!"

Rachel's cheeks burned as she smiled, embarrassed. "You must be Joey," she chuckled.

"Yeah I am! How you doin'?"

"Joey, no!", chimed Ross, Monica, Chandler, and Phoebe.

"So anyways, Rachel," continued Ross. "The rest are Chandler, Phoebe, and my sister Monica."

"Hi!", welcomed Monica, holding out her hand for Rachel to shake. Deciding that Rachel was now in comfortable territory, Ross went to order coffee for them. "We've heard a lot about you from Ross. He seems to really like you."

"Oh, really?", she asked, intrigued. "He talks about me?"

"Oh, constantly!", Phoebe joined in. "Rachel said this, Rachel did that, Rachel wore this. It's like he has some life outside us that didn't die millions of years ago and is on display at the museum!"

"Well, that's nice," Rachel replied, hiding her excitement at this new piece of information.

"So, what do you think?", Ross asked Chandler, over by the counter.

"I think you're in way over your head."

-----

"Did you like them?", Ross asked, as they returned to their apartment later that night.

"Yeah, they seemed like fun. Joey, well, kinda creepy. And does Chandler always talk like that?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"I see. Monica, I don't know, she seemed nice. But she kept talking to me about being friends with people and not dating them . . . I don't know, weird. And Phoebe . . ."

"Well, she's not all there."

"Actually," Rachel began, starting to walk towards her bedroom. "She told me about how this massage client of hers keeps asking her to fix him up with someone. She said she'd fix me up with him." She turned to catch Ross's reaction.

"Oh. Well, that- that sounds good." He tried to keep his expression nonchalant. On the outside, cool as a cucumber. "Good for you!" On the inside, falling apart. How could he have not thought about this? With him calling off anything beyond friendship between them, he should have expected this. Of course, she'd be moving on past their one night.

"Yeah . . .", she dragged out. The hint of disappointment at Ross's reaction could be seen all over her face, so she turned quickly into her room. "I think I'm gonna call it a night. Gotta go to work tomorrow, ya know? Well, um, goodnight."

"'Night."

-----

Ross lay in bed, staring continually up at the white ceiling. 1 am in the morning, and he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. He shuffled, turning onto one side, then the other. Somehow, every damn position was so uncomfortable.

He had no clue he could ever be this hung up over a girl.

Rachel had left on a date with Phoebe's massage client around 8, earlier that night. Ross found out his name to be John; he was a tall guy, with sandy blonde hair and hazel eyes. Rachel seemed excited when he showed up at the door, and this only made Ross feel worse. Maybe she was looking forward to it. Anyway, it was his own stupid fault that he was in this whole situation. He'd rendered himself vulnerable to Rachel . . . or maybe they'd been vulnerable to each other. Either way, he never regreted "breaking up" - as much of a break-up as their situation could be- this much. He wasn't even this uncomfortable when Carol came out with her true sexuality.

What was wrong with him? He was the one who ended it. In his mind, it all still seemed logical- to be her roommate, her friend, and nothing more. But when he decided this, he didn't think of his own feelings. He had no idea that he didn't rid himself of his feelings for her- he only repressed them. Now, with the presense of an "other man", jealously seeped out of him. He really loathed this feeling- knowing that if it weren't for himself, he could have her.

He almost jumped as he heard the door to the apartment open, breaking the dead silence of night. He felt a sense of relief that she wasn't spending the night at his place, but also a sense of anxiety over whether they were going to spend the night there.

"I had a great time," he heard her say, her voice muffled since his door was closed.

"Yeah, me too."

Some silence, followed by the undeniable noise of a soft kiss. Thankfully, it was quick, and not a total make-out in the living room. Ross knew that he might just have to kill himself if he heard that.

"I'll call you."

The door was shut, and he heard Rachel sigh contently before the padding of her footsteps began towards the bedrooms. She surprised him by poking her head through his door.

"You awake?", she whispered.

"Yeah," he mumbled, pretending she had woken him up. "Now."

"Wanna talk? I don't have girlfriends to call at one in the morning," she giggled.

"Sure," he said, almost painfully. Now he would have to _hear_ about her date. He decided to put it off. "But can we talk in the morning? I'm really tired, you know." Truthfully, he'd never been more awake.

"I guess," she replied, disappointed. " 'Night."

"Goodnight."

Once he heard his bedroom door close, he shifted to his other side. There was no easy way to deal with this- he'd just have to learn to cope with the fact that Rachel was, now, officially off limits. The possibility wasn't even open, if she was with this guy. And he'd just have to accept that.

-----

Rachel returned to her room, knowing her disappointment wasn't at not being able to discuss. It was Ross's reaction- he didn't even seem to care! Worse off, earlier, he'd seemed _happy_ for her! This only reinforced the idea in Rachel's mind that their one passionate night together definitely meant more to her than it did to him. She knew that if she saw Ross with a new girl, she'd be seething with envy inside. Why did her dating not seem to affect him?

She almost thought of giving up. However, John was a nice guy, and she thought he deserved another chance. True, he was no Ross, but what was wrong with settling for second best? He could give her anything she wanted, and he was a genuinly sweet guy.

But her thoughts kept flooding back to Ross. Despite the detached lives they led, they had become close friends quickly. However different they seemed to be on the outside, they just meshed. They could have entire conversations composed of sarcastic comments, teasing each other about the complexities- or lack their of- in each's lives. Sometimes, they would stay up all night to watch movie marathons, or tell stories from their escapades back in high school. She was even beginning to become friends with his group. Once, she went to the coffee house in search of him, but only Phoebe and Monica were there. They spent almost two hours just talking, like girls normally do, about everything and anything and nothing. It seemed so much better than the fake friendships Rachel was used to having with the girls from the gym. It seemed real, genuine, sincere. They'd even invited her to their next "girl's night."

Everything about Ross and his life just seemed like home. It was comforting, and not at all contrived. She couldn't help but wish like hell that Ross hadn't set the boundries that he did. Because, since they could be nothing more than roommates, this whole life of his still seemed seperate. That was what caused her to turn down Monica's offer- she just felt like an intruder. This was Ross's life, and she wasn't sure he wanted her as that big a part of it.

So, reluctantly, she kept her distance. But it was getting harder by the second, and maybe John could be a way out. No harm in trying, right?

With confused thoughts flying, along with slight guilt at her original plan to make Ross jealous, Rachel laid her head on her pillow. She wasn't expecting any comforting sleep tonight. No, just a night full of what-ifs and broken dreams.


	8. Chapter 8

Your Ad Here

**A/N:** Eek, I'm sorry for my spaz attack in the last chapter. I can get defensive, LOL, I really hope no one was offended . . . :-\ I think I just get frustrated sometimes because I realize my stories aren't perfect and I'm bad with constructive critisism, because I often take it the wrong way. I'm one of those people that will tell you to be honest when I really just want you to be nice, haha. And everyone has been nice, I've just been overly moody lately. Hasn't helped that I'm having major problems with the story I've started recently, it's just not flowing. But whatever, lol, not your guys problem. Thanks for still reviewing :-) And please continue to. It's what keeps me going.

Note: This chapter rated **R**.

* * *

Ross got up early, smacking the alarm clock with his hand. He blinked a few times, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes. Slowly, he lifted himself from the mattress, letting the sheets fall around him. He rose to stand, then quietly padded out of the room and into the kitchen.

Rachel was nowhere to be found; he wondered where the hell she could have gotten to. Well, maybe it was better this way. For the past month, she had done nothing but unknowingly place Ross in his own personal form of hell. From her third date with Josh on, the two had spent quite a few nights sprawled on the bed with each other in either their or his apartment. And, according to the loud noises coming from her room last night- echoing off Ross's own walls as if mocking him - they'd spent the night here.

He poured himself a bowl of Frosted Flakes, munching on it with a lackadaisical manner. The newspaper hadn't come yet, giving him free time to clear his thoughts. Of course, as they always did when he was alone, his throughts drifted to Rachel. The past month was just killing him. Was she really happy with that guy? Even though he knew John was a perfectly acceptable man, it wouldn't even take him five minutes to have a full list of reasons why Rachel shouldn't be with him. The annoying way he chews his food, the manner in which his arms flailed about during a normal conversation, the weird way his eyes seemed green and brown at the same time. These were the things that bugged him, at least.

"Hi!" Ross heard her exclaim, coming through the front door. She flung her purse on the couch, then walked into the kitchen to join him. "John wanted to go out for breakfast early, since he had to work."

"Oh. That's nice."

"Were we too loud?", she asked, worried.

He sighed deeply. "I was sleeping, didn't even hear you," he lied.

"Well, that's good, at least. I'm gonna go take a quick shower. We still doing lunch?"

"Sure."

"Good." She smiled at him, and he swore it was more genuine than any smile she'd flashed to John. He couldn't help but think, every time he heard her and John in the next room, that she had definitely sounded like she enjoyed his own company over John's.

Which brought him to what he knew was his real problem. Sure, he was always a jealous guy. He was even jealous of his ex-wife's lover Susan in the beginning of their divorce. But that just wasn't it with Rachel. He missed her, even though he saw her every day. He just missed being with her- holding her, touching her, kissing her. It may have only been one night, but he couldn't deny the fact that he missed her ever since. He wanted to curse Monica for her logical thinking that made him ever end it with Rachel.

But, despite his remorse, there was nothing he could do now.

-----

Rachel sighed. John was off on some tangent about his day at work, and some collegue of his that often disagreed with him. She'd heard the story so many times already, and they'd only been together two months.

Had it really been only two months? So many things seemed like an eternity ago . . . seeing Ross's ad, the first time she heard his voice, their first kiss, their night . . . She missed it so much. They had never even had anything official, it had all just been unplanned, spontaneous acts on their surprisingly strong feelings. And, despite the fact that it was almost four months since it all, and she was with another man, Rachel was sure those feelings had never gone away . . .

And now, sitting with John at dinner, she knew one thing for sure. She had more fun at lunch with Ross earlier that day than she had in all of her dinners with John combined. The two had absolutely nothing in common; not that Ross particularly did. But something about Ross meshed so much better than John. They complimented each other, like two different but fitting puzzle pieces. With John, it felt like a piece from the complete other side of the puzzle getting jammed into the wrong spot. She was never comfortable around him, his stories bored her, she felt very little when they made love . . . Now that she thought about it, it was never really worthy of the term "making love." It was just sex.

With Ross, it had definitely been more.

Rachel hadn't noticed that she'd become consummed in her thoughts, and John was getting noticably impatient with her unattentiveness. This had been going on for too long; and he was growing weary of it. She hadn't listened to a full story he'd told since their first date.

"Rachel," he said suddenly, breaking her train of thought. "We need to talk."

-----

Ross looked at himself in the mirror, and splashed some cold water on his face. It was hot in the room; he'd just taken a nice, long shower. Whenever he felt overwhelmed by anything- work, his friends, family, . . .Rachel- a good shower always calmed him. He sighed, partially content. He heard the door open, which left him confused. Rachel had told him that she'd most likely be at John's that night . . .

Wrapping a towel around his waist, he went out into the front room to see why she was home.

He heard her clammering around in the kitchen. Upon opening the door, he saw her fumbling around in the fridge, random things clanking together. She pulled out a bottle of beer, twisted off the cap, and downed almost half of it in one long gulp.

"Jesus, Rachel, slow down." His words startled her; she hadn't even felt his presence. "What's wrong?"

She sighed before answering. "John broke up with me."

"Oh, wow." Truthfully, Ross wasn't sure how to react. It wasn't like all of a sudden, Rachel was his. "I'm sorry."

She nodded detachedly, but felt the sting of tears come to her eyes. It wasn't exactly the fact that they were over that upset her; it was the fact that she hadn't even had the guts to do it herself. She had to go and hurt a perfectly nice and innocent guy's feelings first. His words kept echoing through her mind. _'You know I like you, a lot, Rachel. I really thought that we might have something special. But, I don't know, you don't seem as into this as me. Is something wrong?' _

What was she supposed to say to that? Blantantly lie to his face again? Ugh, no, she had to go and tell the truth. And the look on John's face was enough to reduce her to guilty tears. Right after her revelation, he had coldly stated that things were ending right there. A side of him that Rachel never saw was brought to the surface- an angry, rude side. She didn't blame him- she knew she'd hurt him. But that didn't keep his next words from cutting into her like a knife. _'I should have known you were one of those girls. Just gotta get some unsuspecting guy to fulfill your nighttime needs, huh? None of those nights ever meant anything, right? Well, you should think about other people before you do that, Rachel!'_

What hurt the most was that she was beginning to believe he was right. It's not like she exactly had good intentions when she began dating him.

"Hey," she heard Ross whisper, as he lay a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I really am sorry."

She turned to look at him, and noticed that all he was wearing was a towel. Being December, she was in a sweater. She wished to God that she had something sleeveless on, though, so she could feel the skin of his hand on her shoulder . . .

"Come here," he said softly. He pulled her towards his chest, wrapping his arms around her and enveloping her in a warm hug. Finally, her frustration with everything going on got the best of her. She buried her head into his neck, returning the hug with such force that Ross backed up a few feet and hit the wall behind him. Her tears came fast; he could feel them run down his shoulder, hot and burning.

"Shh, shh, it's gonna be okay," he quietly reassured her. "There will be other guys . . ."

"No, that's not it," she mumbled, sniffling. "John never meant that much to me. It's just . . .ughh! Everything's so messed up now."

"Yeah," Ross lamented. "It is."

Neither had any idea that they were both confused and frustrated with the same problem- each other. And, unfortunately, neither moved to reveal anything.

Rachel held Ross tight around his torso; his naked upper body was possibly the biggest comfort she had since . . . well, the last time she'd felt him like this. She was cursing her sweater to hell for keeping her skin from contacting his. She needed that.

"Rach?", he said gently, breaking the reverie that was only filled with her sobs. "Wanna go sit on the couch?"

She nodded wordlessly, letting him lead her into the living room. He sat on the couch, and pulled her to sit next to him.

"Do you want me to get you anything?"

Rachel looked at him, catching his eyes just as he was about to turn to get up. The deep blue pools pulled him back in. They stared at each other, both silently willing the other to do something- anything- to move in.

"Ross . . ." Her voice was barely a whisper.

All of a sudden, Ross grabbed Rachel and kissed her. It took Rachel a few seconds to register what had just happened; before she could kiss him back, though, he pulled away.

"I'm sorry, uh, jeez . . ." He was obviously embarrassed.

"No," she said firmly. "No."

She took his face in her hands, bringing him into a long, passionate kiss. Neither was sure what this moment meant at all- but neither cared. They took no time to rediscover each other's tongues, or each other's bodies . . .

Ross slid his hands inside her shirt, running them over the smooth skin of her back. She felt a slight tingle at her skin finally coming into contact with his. It only took a few more moments for Ross to slowly lift the garment off of her.

It all was a blur from then on. Before either of them knew it, Rachel's clothes were thrown in a disarray around the room, along with Ross's towel. He was already cradled securely between her legs as she hugged him tightly, pressing his body into hers, feeling his sweat mix with her own. As he began kissing at her neck and shoulder, a part of her wished he would just melt completely into her.

Both of their needs were quickly apparent, as Rachel rocked her hips up into him and he moaned softly. After he entered her, it was almost like they completely blacked out. They were so drunk on each other, so lost in the moment, that they couldn't see anything. They couldn't hear anything. The only sense they seemed to have was the way they felt . . . how was it possible that they had only done this once before? It was almost like a drug, having them completely addicted with only the second hit . . .

She bit her lip to hold in a scream, as he muffled his own yell into her shoulder, completely releasing his weight on her. Everything had been so fast, so intense, so draining . . . it didn't take more than a few minutes for them to fall asleep, just like that, wrapped up in each other on the front room couch.

Right before he'd drifted off, Ross reached up for the old afgan that lay on the back on his couch. He pulled it onto them, letting it cover them with a layer of warmth as they both cooled down. He wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead; she'd smiled at him. He gave her one last kiss.

And with that, he laid his lead on her shoulder, nuzzling his face into her skin. She stroked his back, and both were asleep within minutes.

But how long would it last this time?


	9. Chapter 9

Your Ad Here

**A/N: **Ok, this is the chapter that may frustrate people. When I originally posted it at FC, some people got angry with Ross, at least until the end of the first part of the chapter. Please don't get angry! LOL, Rossy is just confused. I realize it may make you just be like "WHAT?" buuut, I beg, keep an open mind :-P

To Tina Chaves- You honestly have nothing to apologize for. It's not your fault that I don't handle critisism well. I know you're only trying to help, and I honestly am sorry. I know I got a bit defensive, but I tried to apologize in the next chapter's A/N. Honestly, I enjoy your reviews more than the "Oh, so awesome!" ones. I like both. I appreciate any. I'm just not used to someone actually being constructive, and I do appreciate it. Really, I do, I'm trying to incorporate your suggestions into a fic I've just started a few days ago. I guess I got frustrated because it was a fic that was already finished, here's some suggestions and there was nothing, in this fic, I could do with them. So honestly, I am sorry. And then one of my friends went through my reviews, and had the view that you were trying to sugar-coat your review. I was already in a bad mood from outside sources that day, and I'm positive that wasn't your intention, I was just not having a good day. I let things get to my head. So I really hope that I, in turn, didn't upset you . . . :-\ No hard feelings or anything, at least not from me :-) Keep doing what you're doing. ;-)

* * *

Thank God for lazy Saturday mornings.

When Ross eventually woke up, he found himself lying on his side, his back against the back of the couch, with an arm around Rachel's waist. She was also on her side, her back to his chest. She must have been awake, because she was absentmindedly stoking his arm, tickling it with her fingernails. Her head was facing the big window; he assumed she was staring out of it.

He lightly nudged the side of her head with his nose to let her know he was awake. She shifted so that she was facing him, and he sat up. He opened up his mouth to say something, but she laid her finger over it. Words would only ruin the moment; she wanted to keep the comfortable silence. In silence, there was the unknown. But the unknown was better than finding out this had to end.

She took his hand and stood up, pulling him off the couch. She led the way to the bathroom, where Ross caught the hint and turned on the shower. He got in first, and her behind him. He faced her, his look questioning and confused. Her own face was expressionless, except the intense look in her eyes. Rather than explain anything, she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, pulling him as close as humanly possible to herself. She buried her head in the nook between his neck and shoulder, and he encircled her middle with his arms in a strong embrace. Neither moved to do anything; they just stood in the tight bind together, the warm water spraying them and somehow making them feel even closer.

Somewhere in the midst of all this, Ross backed them up to the wall. He pushed her back into it, and rested his own forehead on the cool tile.

The silence, despite the spray of the shower, was deafening. There was definite tension- but whether it was angry, hurt, or sexual was unknown. They couldn't get themselves to talk, for fear that words could ruin this. Again. Just like last time.

He felt her shiver in his arms.

"Are you okay?", he whispered, trying to be as quiet as possible.

"Yes," she muffled into his shoulder, nodding. She then pulled back enough to look him in the eye, even daring a small smile. "The wall's kinda cold."

"Oh," he chuckled. He rotated them so he could support his own back on the wall, still holding Rachel to his chest. He was reluctant to still talk, but he knew that they would have to eventually. And he thought that, maybe, he'd come up with logical answers to their problems in his mind. "Look, Rachel . . . I want to talk about this. About us, whatever 'us' is right now."

She looked into his face, knowing that she couldn't put it off any longer. She nodded in surrender, letting him turn off the shower and lead them out into his room. He pulled on a pair of boxers, and threw her one of his big shirts. He didn't even want to wait as long as it would take for her to run to her room and grab some clothes. They needed to do this now.

"Rach, I just need to know . . . why did last night happen? I mean, from your point of view."

She crossed the room to sit next to him on his bed. "Why?"

"I can't shake the feeling that it was, you know, for the wrong reasons. I mean, you _just_ got out of a relationship less than an hour before, you were vulnerable . . ."

"Ross, you didn't take advantage of me. Please, don't worry. Nothing happened that I wouldn't have wanted."

He looked her in the eye, searching for her true feelings. He always found himself having trouble reading her eyes precisely; all he saw was an endless pool of blue. But her look seemed intense, and he could tell that she was almost smiling.

"Okay, but, um . . . I don't know if this timing is right. You know?" Rachel sighed; she wasn't up for getting let down again. "It's just . . . why does this only happen spontaneously? I mean, we've been so irresponsible, and I just don't know if that's right. It's like we can't get it right."

"Yeah," she admitted, putting her hand over his. "I get what you mean. This isn't exactly ideal, but . . ."

"So you agree that we should wait?", he asked, cutting her off.

Her face completely fell. She was going to say that she didn't care that this was all so unorthodox. She didn't mind that it all happened spur of the moment. Her feelings were strong enough and she cared about him enough to bypass all that. And, apparently, he didn't feel the same way.

"Wait? Um, like, until when?"

"When this all feels right. I mean, it's not that this doesn't feel right. But Rach, you just broke up with John. You live in my apartment. I've only known you for four months . . . I want the timing to be perfect, okay? I don't wanna mess up what we already have."

"What do we have, Ross?", she yelled, getting up off the bed. "What, we slept together twice, we live in the same place, and-"

"And you're one of my best friends," he cut in, catching her off guard. His voice was quiet, almost sad. "Rach, I don't want to ruin this. I _like_ this. What we have, this arrangement . . . I'm not saying I wouldn't be happy with more. Frankly, you have no idea how happy that would make me. I just don't want to rush or push things where they don't fit yet. I want to grow into it, not decide on an impulse."

And then, Rachel got it. He wanted to earn anything between them. He wanted it to happen naturally. And, while she was an impatient person, she'd wait. For him. She had to agree; he was definitely one of her best friends too. And she did like the relationship they had now.

"Okay," she whispered.

-----

"So how's the babe doing?"

"Rachel, Joey. Her name's Rachel."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. She still hot? It's been, like, a week since I've seen her."

Ross sighed. "Yeah, Joey. She's still . . . 'hot'." He felt disgusted using the word. She was so much more than "hot" could ever describe. She was beautiful, adorable, sexy . . . but "hot" seemed too primative and high-school to describe her.

"You seem down, man," said Chandler, catching his buddy's subtle sadness. The three friends were simply hanging out in Joey's apartment, snacking on some junk food while watching the Yankees game on TV. But, just like at the Nix game months earlier, Ross was putting a small damper on the hype.

Seeing that Joey was immersed in his game, not to mention the bowl of chips, Ross pulled Chandler into the kitchen. He looked at him, dead-serious, his eyes blazing.

"I'm going nuts, Chandler."

"Whoa, buddy, do you think you might be a _tad_ intense right now?"

"I'm not kidding."

"What happened?"

"Well . . ." Ross stared sheepishly at something unknown, averting his eyes from Chandler.

"Oh my God," he said. "You slept with her, didn't you?"

"Okay, maybe. Maybe once. Or twice."

"TWICE??"

"Hey, man, care to keep the voice down? Anyway, yeah, it's really driving me crazy Chandler. I mean, I know, she's my roommate and I shouldn't complicate things, but . . .I just can't stop thinking about her!" Ross was on a roll, and Chandler sensed that it would be awhile until he got a word in edgewise. "I keep telling her these things, excuses, about why we can't be together. But the truth is, I don't give a damn about any of them! She's just so perfect, Chandler. _So _perfect. I don't know what to do."

"Mind if I offer you my opinion?" Ross shook his head.

"Go ahead."

"I think you're in love with her."

"_What?! _I am not in l-love . . ." All of a sudden, he paused in realization. "Oh my God. I'm in love with her."

-----

Rachel sat at the computer her and Ross shared. He was out with the guys, Monica was working, Phoebe was busy, and none of her other girlfriends were available. She had absolutely nothing to do.

Out of sheer boredom, she emailed Phoebe, hoping that she would somehow get it.

_Hey Phoebs. I'm really bored tonight. Look, if you're home, I need to talk to someone . . .about Ross. Nothing really important or anything, I just don't have anyone else to talk to right now. So if you're done with that thing you had to do, if you could swing by to say hi, that'd be great. Thanks! -Rach_

-----

"So what's up?", Phoebe asked, as Rachel let her into the apartment.

"Nothing, nothing, just . . ."

"Ross problems?", Phoebe asked knowingly.

"Yeah," Rachel sighed. "We, um, slept together."

"OH MY GOD! Rachel, that's so great! I _knew_ you two were into each other!"

"Getting ahead of yourself there, Phoebs. We've, um, been together twice, but-"

"Twice?? How come you never told me this?!"

"Because he ended it both times, okay?", Rachel almost yelled, getting up to stare out the window. She didn't notice the tears that had somehow found their way to her eyes, threatening to fall.

"Really? Man, I always thought he really liked you . . . But, I mean, if it happened again, don't you think it means _something?_"

"I don't know," Rachel admitted, her voice cracking. "I thought it did."

"Well, maybe it does. Love is a crazy thing, sometimes."

Rachel's ears perked up. Love? Was that what this mess was?

"Love?", she asked Phoebe, chuckling.

"Yes, love. That's normally the term I put to the look Ross gives you when you're not looking. He didn't even look at his ex-wife that way, Rachel. And don't think I don't see your looks when he's turned the other way, either."

"He doesn't love me, _he's _the one ending it left and right."

"Monica's scared him, Rachel. She really is a frightening person sometimes . . .like, _never_ eat cookies in the bedrooms at her place. She'll stare you down cold until you wish you were dead!"

"Do you think I love him?"

"I think you do, but you don't know it. And neither does he. Neither of you guys are aware of anything around yourselves! You keep reading into 'oh, she can't be more than a friend because I live with her', and 'well, since he keeps finding excuses, he doesn't care.' Get over yourselves and admit it already!"

Rachel sighed deeply. "I'm not even sure there's anything truthful to admit there," she replied genuinly.

Phoebe shook her head. "I have never seen two people more confused over each other."


	10. Chapter 10

Your Ad Here

**A/N: **Hey everyone, here's chapter 10. Now, on FC, I got a loooot of mixed reviews for this one. Big range, lol. Was told it was the best chapter because of the added twist/obstacle, and was also told it was one of the worst. Someone even said that it didn't feel like my writing, lol. I dunno, it doesn't bother me. I've written worse, haha. But yeah, just enjoy I guess :-)

* * *

How long could he keep living this lie?

Ross wandered aimlessly around the Village, his thoughts roaming wildly about Rachel. Now that he'd finally admitted his feelings for her, he was in even more of a mess than before. Now, it wasn't a strange attraction. It had a name. It was love, alright. But this thought didn't comfort Ross at all. If anything, it left him more confused, anxious, and regretful. So regretful.

Why was he always looking for excuses? Was it fear- maybe from the fact that he never truly loved Carol, that in all his years with her, he never felt anything as raw, or strong as he did with Rachel. He had to admit, it did scare him. Why did he feel so much for her when she hadn't even known each other for five months? It just seemed so . . . _unlikely._

And yet, it was.

Did he like the arrangement now? Of course he did, he really loved living with Rachel. She was such an easy-going roommate- always willing to lend him the remote for his Discovery Channel documentaries, or talk in the middle of the night about everything and anything, or to place an order of Chinese food at three in the morning just because he was hungry. Why did it seem so hard for him to accept moving it all the the next level?

And, just like before, it went back to the initial reason. She was his roommate. Whether things would go well or not, he had to live with her. They had to tough it out because they had an arrangement, a routine, now. They _liked_ it.

Then, at the same time, he knew it was killing him inside.

What the hell was going on?

-----

"Yes, I'll have the, um, orange chicken. Thanks." Rachel handed the waitress her menu, and turned back to Phoebe. "So? You said you had advice."

Phoebe had quickly become Rachel's confidant in her whole Ross ordeal. While Monica was a tad bit closer with Rachel, since they lived so close by, Phoebe just seemed better for the situation. Monica was Ross's brother, and Rachel just didn't want to add another level of complication. Her head already hurt everytime she thought about it.

"Yeah, I've been thinking . . .which means I asked Monica. And I know what might work!"

"You asked Monica??"

"Oh, anonymously of course. What do you think I am- stupid?! I told her it was my friend Karen and her roommate Eustace."

Rachel looked at Phoebe, unconvinced. " . . . Those are our middle names, Phoebs."

"Yeah," Phoebe laughed sarcastically. "Like _Monica_ could figure that out! But anyway, listen. I think-"

"_She_ thinks," Rachel corrected.

"Okay, do you want the advice, or not?" Rachel just nodded, resting her cheek on her hand. "So, maybe you guys just need some time apart. I mean, you're _always_ together, especially now that you hang out with us. We go to the movies, out for coffee, just talking, and then you go home with him at night!"

"So, what, you're saying one of us should move?" Rachel wasn't convinced, at all. Life with Ross was just so comfortable . . . even if it wasn't the way she ideally pictured the two of them together.

"Well, I don't know about _moving. _But maybe take a trip, or- OH! Rachel! We could go to Vermont!!"

What was friendly advice quickly turned into Phoebe's childish giddiness, with her bouncing and practically clapping her hands, while squealing with a huge grin on her face. Rachel knew that either way she could respond- yes or no- it would undoubtably end up in one of Phoebe's songs the following week. She sighed.

"Vermont? Do you even know how to ski?"

"Well, no . . . oh, but we could bring Monica, and have a girl's weekend! That would be _so much fun!_"

Ross or not, the whole weekend was definitely beginning to sound appealing to Rachel.

"Well, maybe . . . "

-----

When Rachel got home from her lunch with Phoebe, she was practically skipping with anticipation. After calling Monica from the restaurant, the three girls set a date for a weekend of skiing, fun, and relaxation. Rachel could practically hear the "shwoop schwoop schwoop" of her skis sliding down a sheet of new, white snow. She couldn't wait.

She opened the door, threw her keys on the small table near it, and hung her coat up. She noticed Ross, immersed in some odd television program. He was so engrossed that he barely even noticed her presence; it was so endearing to her how caught up in something geeky he could get. She assumed the show to be a documentary about dinosaurs- and with a closer look, she saw she was right.

"Hey there," she said gently, standing behind the couch and rubbing his shoulders affectionately.

"Hi," he returned, perking up. "Did you just get home?"

"Yeah. Watching some educational tv, there?", she teased.

"Yup. Care to join me?"

"Oh, I can't," she said, now disappearing into their kitchen. He followed her, now curious as to what her plans might be. She felt his presence behind her and voluntarily offered an explanation. "Phoebe, Monica, and I are gonna go to a ski resort in Vermont in like three weeks. Monica's calling to make the reservations later today, so I have to go over there."

"Oh . . . so you're leaving?"

She barely even noticed his slightly disappointed tone. "Yeah, but only for like two nights. It's gonna be so much fun!" She grabbed a water bottle out of the refridgerator, then left the kitchen. "I'm gonna go over there now, I'll see ya!"

"Bye . . ." he trailed after her, but she was already gone.

-----

"Oh yeah, man, Mon just called me about that. She said they wanted a 'girl's weekend out'."

"Yeah." Ross was a bit downhearted, but trying to cover it. "It should be fun for them. I'm really happy that Rachel is friends with you guys, you know? That made me kinda nervous at first."

"More than that was making you nervous," Chandler half-joked, grabbing some chips out of the cabinet in his kitchen. He returned to the couch, and turned to face his tattered buddy sitting in the Barcalounger. "What's going on?"

"I don't know," Ross lied. After Chandler eyed him suspiciously, he decided to just get on with it. "Remember how I said I was gonna take it slow with this Rachel thing? Well, I don't know, things have been a little awkward since . . . hm, since we, you know . . ."

"Yes, sex, I'm familiar with the concept," Chandler deadpanned. After throwing him a look, Ross continued.

"I wanted to, I don't know, try to patch things up these next few weeks. Maybe take her to some friendly lunches, and the day they're going-"

"Is the day you were gonna ask her out on a real date," Chandler finished for him. He smiled at his buddy. "This girl has_ gotten_ you, man- _badly._"

"Shut up," Ross mumbled.

"No, I think it's cute, it's like in high school when the nerd falls for the-"

He was interrupted by a pillow thrown at his face.

-----

As the next two weeks went by, Ross and Rachel somehow grew back to normal. Well, not exactly the same. Every since they had discussed "us" after sleeping together, there was definitely something holding them back. Almost a damper, although both were slightly hopeful. They went to lunch regularly, just like before. And the meals were always filled with laughter, conversation, anecdotes . . . in short, everything they _already_ had. It wasn't enough. Knowing what it was like to be with someone- how amazing and real and _right_ it felt- but not being with together was softly killing them both.

However, with the girl's weekend drawing nearer, Ross abandoned his plans. If Rachel was becoming this close with Monica and Phoebe, he was sure the girls were discussing men constantly, and Monica was probably trying to find the "right guy" for Rachel. And, knowing his sister, he was the farthest man from these conversations. And now, it wouldn't be risking only his and Rachel's friendship- it would be risking the friendships being formed between Rachel and the other four.

Rachel, meanwhile, was completely immersed into the skiing trip. She was so excited to have girlfriends to hang out with again- after moving into the village, her old girlfriends secretly decided that her sophistication was going down the toilet, and they hardly ever spoke to her. And so, despite her initial worry with their condition, thoughts of Ross were slowly slipping further and further to the back burner.

At the same time, Ross's own thoughts were being clouded by her. No matter what he was doing, it somehow always got back to her. Her face, her personality, how she looked, smelled, talked . . .

It was as though the two bewildered souls were on different time zones. And with their sporatic "romantic" occurences- if you could call them that-, Ross wasn't sure if they'd ever be on the same track again.


	11. Chapter 11

Your Ad Here

**A/N:** Only two chapters after this :-P So enjoy while it lasts, haha. I've also started a new fic for anyone that's looking for something to read or is bored a lot or something, haha, whatever. Its called "Feels Like Tonight" if you're interested.

Well anyway, here's the chapter ;-)

* * *

"Okay, and here's the number of the inn we'll be at-"

"Rachel, Rach," Ross chuckled. "Calm down, everything's fine, Monica gave me all the information."

Rachel whipped around to look at Monica, who smiled innocently. She should have excpected that, with Monica being so organized. She wouldn't even be surprised if that was on Monica's list of "to-do's".

"Alright then," said Rachel, something still visably bothering her. Her gaze lingered on Ross, but the second his confused face went to meet it, she turned her face. She fidgeted with the strap on her suitcase while Monica talked to Chandler about how to take care of the apartment while they were gone.

"Um, Rach?", she heard Ross's unsure voice, and she snapped her head up. "What's wrong?"

What's wrong? That was definitely a question Rachel would have loved to know the answer to. It had been three weeks -three_ whole _weeks- since her and Ross's last- ahem- "encounter", and nothing had happened. What was all that crap about things happening in their own time? And if this was what he meant, what the hell kind of clock was _he_ living to? She'd waited expectantly, even if the thought wasn't always in the forefront of her mind. Was he going to make a move, would she have to initiate something, and were they ever going to sit down and actually discuss their true feelings for once? She hoped this whole ski trip would take her mind off things, and in a way, it did . . . but the thoughts always lingered.

"Nothing," she lied, averting her eyes.

"Rach, we'll meet you at the cab, ok?" Rachel nodded at Monica, who left with Phoebe.

"Well, um, I have a plane to catch . . . ", she trailed off. He looked at her intently.

"Yeah, I guess you do." He smiled, then pulled her into a hug. "Have fun, and keep an eye on them, will ya?"

She chuckled. "Can do."

He pulled out of the embrace, holding her shoulders out at arm's length. "You sure everything's okay?"

"Yeah . . . um, well," she sighed. No use keeping too many secrets now- she was leaving for a few days anyway. "Can we talk when I get back?"

"Of course, Rach."

"Okay . . . " She hesitated, and almost elaborated on what she had to talk about. But she bit her lip, thought better of it, and forced a smile. He smiled back, a bit unsure of what was bothering her, and lightly rubbed her shoulders.

"I'll see you Monday," he said.

And with that, she smiled, turned around, and left.

-----

Rachel stood at the top of the hill, just to the side of the chairlift that had brought her and Phoebe up shortly before. The vastness of the untouched snow-covered hill was such an exhilirating site. The unknown. The unfamiliar . . .

. . . Ross . . .

Rachel shook her head violently. She had agreed to this ski trip to get her mind _off _Ross, yet he seemed to be all she could think about. She tried to focus on anything but him- the feeling of looking down on the resort from the tall hill, being with her newest friends and being girls. But she was quickly realizing that, while these girls were definitely a big part of her life, it was just weird to be with them and not be with Ross. It wasn't his physical absence, but just the fact that she wasn't _with him_ with him.

This was something that still drove her nuts. Why _weren't _they together? There was obviously so much electricity, so much repressed passion between them. Yet so many things standing in the way . . . Rachel wasn't even sure what these things were anymore.

"Race you down the hill, Rach!", she heard Phoebe shout from behind her, as she began to zoom down the hill on her skiis.

"Not if I run you all into the ground!", Monica wailed, increasing speed as she went after Phoebe.

Rachel sighed. Well, if she was here, might as well make the most of it. Maybe she could talk to Phoebe later that night. So, after a deep breath, she plunged down the hill, into the snowy abyss.

-----

"Come _on_, man! Just one date, that's all I'm asking. I owe her a favor!"

"Chandler, _no!_"

"Rachel isn't even here, she's in Vermont! You don't have to take this chick home or anything, just please do me a favor and go to dinner with her! I promised her I would find a guy, and Joey is busy tonight!"

Ross looked over at Joey, who was lounged in the Barkalounger in front of the television.

"Yeah, I was planning on sitting around!", he defended. "Plus, I hear she's really ugly."

"Great, great. I get all the ugly women," Ross said, his tone flat. "Lovely."

Chandler's new collegue at work was having some trouble getting her own dates. She had recently relocated to New York from Chicago. She wasn't incredibly bad looking, but it was clear that she wasn't blessed with the best genes. She talked and talked and talked about absolutely nothing until your ears fell off. Chandler had promised her a date with one of his friends just to shut her up one day- and was paying for it now.

"Please man, I just need one dinner from you. Can you do that? For me?" Chandler tried his best to attempt pleading puppy eyes, despite the clear blue color that was so far from that of expected puppy eyes. Ross threw him a disgusted look.

"Fine, but only if you never look at me that way. Ever again."

"Thank you, thank you!", Chandler exclaimed. "Seriously, you can cut it off after this! As long as she's calling _you_ an ass, and _not_ me, then I'm fine with it." He noticed Ross's meloncholy manner. "Hey, look," he said, in a hush tone so Joey wouldn't overhear. "Rachel's gonna be back tomorrow, right? Why don't you ask her out then? I honestly think you two have something there, Ross. Ignore your sister's stupid advice. God knows I do."

"You are just the perfect man for my little sister," Ross sarcastically shot at him.

"Yeah, yeah, like any of us actually listen to her. But man, I'm serious. Ask her out. I'm really doubting you'll get a 'no' from that. They way she looks at you when you have your head turned . . . it reminds me of the way I looked at Monica when we first started dating. If you _love_ her, just do it."

Ross pondered this a moment. What was there to lose? Well, okay, he had his confidence, pride, _sanity_- not to mention the friendship he already had with Rachel. He was so scared of losing that. But . . . she wouldn't say no, would she?

"I'll think about it. Now where do I have to take this girl?"

-----

"Hi, you've reached Ross and Rachel-"

Rachel slammed the phone back down. After having a quick convesation with Phoebe before she'd gone to the cafe downstairs, Rachel decided to give Ross a call. Phoebe had gone on and on about how, if Rachel was this confused, Ross was only a phonecall away. And while Rachel was more a fan of the talking-in-person ordeal, she finally agreed to give it a try. Only now, she'd been trying for almost an hour, getting nothing more than the machine.

Thinking he must be at Joey's apartment, she gave their number a try.

"Hello?"

"Joey? Hey, it's Rachel."

"Oh, hi Rach! Listen, I'm watching this great program on tv, and I wanted to ask you something. If _you_ take off your-"

"Not now, Joey," she said, sighing. "Is Ross there? I need to talk to him."

"No, no. He's out. Some date or something like that. Yeah, a date with this one girl. Anyway, when you take off-"

Rachel slammed the phone down on the reciever.

A _date?_ How could Ross be on a date with someone?? After everything that happened the last month- he was with another girl. Probably having a great time while she was the furthest thought from his mind. After all those things he told her, about waiting for things to happen naturally and him "earning" her. Was that all just a load of bull? Did he _lie?_

Rachel fell back onto the bed, her back hitting the mattress hard. She covered her face with her hands, feeling the hot gush of tears pour out before she could stop them. Sure, she'd gone out with John those two months, but she didn't know then if anything would happen with Ross. She thought she'd known wrong- could she have been wrong?

Maybe Ross wasn't different from all the other guys.

Maybe he was exactly the same. And with this epiphany, she made a rash decision, one that would be hard to follow. But she just couldn't take this anymore.

-----

Ross walked home from work, too giddy to even bother to try for a cab. Rachel would be home today, and the thought of seeing her put a slight skip in his step. He would talk to her, ask her out, live happily ever after . . .

He didn't even care how corny that sounded. He didn't care about anything. He didn't have a care in the world other than her. Always her. Screw everyone else; tonight would be his night- _their_ night. One amazing night. After sitting through another pep talk from Chandler, he had the uttmost confidence in his decision. Well, as much confidence as Ross Geller could have, but still. Much stronger than usual.

He fumbled with the lock to the door, too excited to bother doing anything carefully. He threw the door open, a big smile on his face.

"Hi Rach!"

What he saw before him stopped him cold.

Rachel was quickly grabbing her things off the shelves across the living room, tossing them carelessly into a cardboard box next to her. As he frantically scanned the apartment, he saw that there were a few other cardboard boxes, already full and taped up. There were empty spots on the bookshelves, table tops. Everything that was hers was either packed away, or she was working on packing it away.

"Rachel, what's . . .", he trailed off, too scared and confused to bother forming a coherent sentence. She looked back at him with her big blue eyes, and responded without even flinching.

"I'm moving out."


	12. Chapter 12

Your Ad Here

**A/N:** Well, this is the second to last chapter :-( lol. I hate ending fics, it makes me sad. Haha. But this is a chapter I'm pretty proud of, looking back at it. So I hope y'all like it :-P

* * *

Time froze. Ross stood still, stoical. It took a few minutes of staring blankly at Rachel for his mind to process what was going on. She was leaving . . . she was _leaving?_ Since when?? Why?!

"Um, w-why?", he stuttered, finally getting words out. His hands had begun to shake, his mind racing and his heart beating faster and faster inside his chest. He wouldn't be surprised if his pulse was quick enough to be visable to her. However, she kept her eyes locked intensely on his.

"You tell me, Ross," she shot at him. A bit harsher than what she had initially planned, but it reflected her feelings nonetheless.

"Rachel, I honestly have no idea-"

"No idea, huh?" What Ross had feared- perhaps the most- then happened. The tears welled up in her eyes, as she violently turned her head from him. She stared out the window, shaking her head in disbelief. How could he not know? He used to be able to read her like a book- he once understood, during one of their not unusual 2am talks, that she was upset over a depressing television show before she'd even told him. He'd been able to tell _exactly_ what show it was. And now, it was like she was a new person, and he had no clue. It was even something _he_ did.

"Rachel," he called out, softly and carefully. "What's going on?"

She turned to him, fighting to keep her face blank as the tears continued their graceful fall down her cheeks. "How was your date last night?", she deadpanned, her voice coming out a bit more broken than she would have liked. The sobs shook her body intensely.

"Wha- how, how do you know about that?", he breathed. He retreated from her, seeking some form of comfort but finding nothing other than a cold stare, a loud sob, and the thick, heavy weight of undeniable tension.

"I called last night. To talk to you. To talk about _us_," she managed between her crying. The sobs were sporatic, coming stronger and stronger, even midsentence. She dropped her eyes from his, staring out the window again. Staring at all the people bustling around the Village, smiles on their faces, naiviety showing everywhere.

"You called," he repeated, as if confirming what she said. He wasn't even sure how to explain this one- he wasn't even sure if he'd have the chance to.

She nodded, stifling a particularly loud sob as she continued.

"When you didn't answer, I c-called Joey. He said you were on, o-on . . .a date."

Ross stared at her, completely blank, completely numb. What could he say? He wasn't going to lie. But at the same time, nothing was going on between him and Rachel in that ball court, and he found himself becoming instinctively defensive.

"Yeah, I was on a date," he told her. "A meaningless date, Rachel. I was doing Chandler a _favor!_"

He'd almost shouted his last word, startling Rachel and causing her to jump.

"Well, you know what?", she began, raising her voice to match his. "I'm sick of waiting, Ross! It's been like a month since you told me all these things about 'us' happening naturally, about not wanting to rush. Do you even know how long it's felt? This is completely opposite of rushing- it's _stalling!_"

He stood in shock, surprised that, for once, this subject had actually been brought out in the open. And he couldn't deny that he was ashamed for not mentioning any of it himself.

"I mean, what is this? Huh? What is this thing between we have between us? It doesn't make any sense!"

"Rachel, I know it doesn't-"

"You don't even know what a hell this has been for me, Ross! Thinking 'Gee, will he make a move? Do _I_ make a move?' I mean, I had no clue what was going on! And then, just . . . nothing happened! Were you planning on anything, or were you just planning on a quick fuck and then moving on to the next girl?"

The words stung. They stung worse than anything. They cut into Ross deep, mostly from sheer guilt.

"Rachel, I . . . I don't know what to say. I'm sorry, okay? I could just never tell if you felt the same way! The timing never seemed right, something was in the way . . . What was I supposed to do?"

"_Talk_ to me, Ross! Tell me what the hell you're thinking, because you sure as hell never say. We've never openly discussed this! I don't know what the hell has been holding us back, but apparently it's built up and I'm cutting it off here!" She sighed deeply, wiping the sheet of tears from her cheeks. She attempted to gain composure, however weak, as she walked right up to Ross. She lowered her voice, as it came out a bit cracked from her crying. "I thought I could wait, Ross. I thought you would be worth it. But I'm not so sure anymore."

"Rachel," he said, becoming close to tears himself. He had really, truly hurt her. He felt disgusted, embarrassed, and just plain pissed off with himself. "I . . . I'm sorry, okay? You could have said something too, you know."

He meant this as merely a side comment, but quickly saw that she took it harsher than expected.

"Don't you dare lay this whole burden on me, Ross. Sure, I could have said something. But you know what, _you_ were the one ending things. I thought it was pretty damn obvious what _I_ wanted."

"Rachel, all I can do is apologize! Look, whatever you want, I'll do it now! I'll do anything. Just please . . . don't leave."

She stared at him intensely, bartering what words to use in her mind.

"I'm leaving, Ross. I'm sorry, but I am. I just don't have the strength for this." She took a deep breath. "You'll do anything I want?" He nodded. "Then please leave so I can finish packing. I'll be out by morning."

He looked at her in shock. He wanted nothing more than to rush to her side, take her in his arms, and wipe the tears from her face. But he didn't dare do any of these things. He just stood there, unable to move, unable to speak.

"Rach . . .", he pleaded, his own voice cracking. "Please don't do this."

"Look," she sighed deeply, for the last time. "I thought I was falling in love with you. Obviously, my heart should have been set for failure. Just please leave."

His own heart panged- she'd said _love_. She had been falling in love with him, and this whole time he was blind. He was never completely sure, but now, he couldn't be more disappointed, let down, and overall depressed at the way he had to find out. At the apparent end of something that never really began.

He could do nothing more than follow her plea, turning around and wandering into the hallway. Where he was going, he didn't know. He didn't care.

-----

The room was empty. Nothing but blank walls, blank carpet, and the air of memory.

She was gone.

After wandering aimelessly around the Village the night before, Ross had stopped in a dilapidated little resturaunt that served as a bar as well. He had sat down at the counter, ordered a beer, and sipped it like it was the only thing left in the world for him. He stared with jealousy and anger at a couple who were sitting in the corner. They had been giggling mercilessly, completely lost in a world all their own. The man had covered the woman's eyes as she squirmed at his touch, and the waiter had brought out a birthday cake. When the woman opened her eyes, she kissed the man passionately. That could have been him Rachel, if he hadn't been so stupid. Suddenly, he never wanted to leave a place more. So after just one drink, he threw some dollar bills on the table, and got the hell out of there.

He ended up spending the night at his sister's apartment. Monica was caught completely off-guard, not know how to react to Ross's story of his stormy relationship- if he could even call it that- with Rachel (now to mention the fact that she was last to know). He told her everything- the first time, the second time, the months of not knowing . . . While Monica almost felt compelled to throw him an "I told you so", she bit her tongue. She always knew he and Rachel were close, and that she meant the world to him. But all this drama, the nights they'd thrown caution in the wind, the heated fight they'd just had . . . she had no idea what was really there. And now, she almost regretted giving him advice in the first place. Not to mention, now that she was Rachel's friend too, she didn't know who's side to take. She didn't understand much of this at all.

Ross sighed, leaning on the doorframe to what used to be Rachel's bedroom. She held true to her word- not a scrap of her was left. If it weren't for the blank spaces on some of his shelves, you'd never even know she had been there. It was as though she disappeared from his life as quickly as she'd entered it. He yawned widely, causing his eyes to water.

Under the circumstances, he'd gotten very little sleep the night before. He kept tossing and turning on the bed in Monica's guest bedroom, until he heard Chandler shout at him through the wall to cut it out. So instead, he'd just left the room, grabbed a beer, and sat at the window seat. Staring far out the window, his gaze always drawn back to the adjacent window of his own apartment. Hoping he'd catch a glance of her, but seeing nothing but the drapes pulled shut.

And then he'd had another beer. And another beer. And another . . .

He now retreated from her room to grab an asprin from the bathroom cabinet.

He lost count of how many beers he'd had the night before, but he'd definitely run Monica and Chandler's supply dry. He eventually had passed out on the couch, but was woken up when Monica came out to do her early morning jog. She didn't think twice of him on the couch; she assumed him to be sleeping. When she left, he'd stumbled out of the apartment, not saying a word to anyone. Leaving his friends to wonder. Leaving himself to wonder.

His head was now pounding, his temples throbbing with his persistent hangover. Definitely one of the worst ones he'd had in a long time. Worse than when he'd hit all the bars around town after learning his ex-wife was a lesbian. Yes, this hangover was undeniably worse. Maybe because the cut was deeper, the pain much greater. He hadn't even known Rachel an entire year, but he never had any doubt that his feelings for her were stronger than they ever were for Carol. This only made the hurt of the aftermath all the more intense.

And now, here he found himself. In his apartment. His home. Only . . . it didn't feel like home.

Right then, it hit him. It wasn't his apartment that was his home . . . it was _her. _Rachel had been his home. All this time, she'd been his best friend, the one person he could always count on, his confidant. And now, she was gone. She'd taken his home with her.

All he was left to do was grab another beer, sit alone in the vacant room, and feel home sick.

Home sick for her.


	13. Chapter 13

Your Ad Here

**A/N: **One day, I'd like to write a fic about Phoebe maybe. I love her character. How she seems so air-headed and downright weird, and you just don't get it, but she sometimes reveals herself to be the wisest member of the group. She knows _so much. _This sounds really random, but you'll see when you read the chapter. I love writing Phoebe. Anything goes, and in the end, she's not weird- she's the most helpful person. She's real. She _gets_ it. She's the puppetmaster :-P

So this is the very last chapter of this fic. I really hate ending fics, I get really attached to my stories. But I've been having kinda of a shitty week, so I decided that maybe posting the end to this would cheer me up. Like the reviews from it. Those always make me feel better. :-) I just really hope you guys have enjoyed the story, because it's my favorite one I've written. I just adore Ross and Rachel and love putting them in different situations and figuring out how they might handle it. I've been told that I really understand the characters, and I dont know if I do, but I sure as hell try my best to get them. Try to be the puppetmaster :-P Hehe.

Seriously, though, thank you for following my story. I hope you join "Feels Like Tonight", which is in chapter 2 :-) I just hope this ending is good enough, because I liked it. I dont wanna let you guys down.

Also, I have a tendency to put my fic titles into my fictions. I like to do that. So that might sound corny but its one of my personal favorite lines :-P hehe

3 Caity

* * *

Rachel stared at the small living room of her new apartment. So empty, impersonal, cold . . .

Nothing at all compared to how hollow she felt.

At the time, leaving Ross had been all she'd known to do. She'd been screwed over in the past, and she always managed a narrow escape. When she realized that she held no feelings for her ex-fiance Barry, she'd climbed out the window at the wedding to get away from it all. But where did she have to go? No where, but shamefully walk the streets in full wedding dress garb, staring at the ground until she found her way home.

Now, she didn't even have a home to escape to. What she'd known to be home for the past six months- not only the apartment, but Ross himself- was now a part of the past. It was hard, but she knew she'd have to work on putting it behind her. Even if it became increasingly evident that she didn't want to.

However, it had been a full day, and she still hadn't been able to think about anything else.

She tried to watch TV, but any man with dark hair or eyes brought up memories. Any documentary reminded her of the late nights they'd watch random shows together, chowing on Chinese food and laughing at nothing in particular. Her romance novels made her think of everything she could have had, if either of them had ever worked up the courage to say their feelings out loud.

This new apartment slowly turned into a prison.

There was the tiny front room, connecting to a kitchen. There was one bathroom and one bedroom. One large window encompassed her bedroom wall, the only thing she could find remotely pleasant about the place. From up there, she could stare down from the fifth floor she lived on, watching the innocent faces of the lovesick teenagers walking hand in hand, fumbling over words and shaking through awkward pauses. Of course, other passerby were present, but these were the couples Rachel always watched. So naive, so new to the word of love . . . 'They have no idea,' she always thought.

And neither did she.

-----

Ross sat on the ratty orange couch, solomn and heartbroken. Two days, and the pain hadn't lifted. He wasn't even sure why he left for coffee, because it sure wasn't making him feel better. Mostly because, sitting at one of the tables behind him, he could hear a young couple giggling. The same infectious giggle as the couple he'd seen at the bar. The same sting flowing into his veins like a poison.

He heard the door open, almost instinctly knowing it was one of four possible people. He prayed it wouldn't be his sister, filling his head with encouraging remarks or sympathic looks. He hoped it wasn't Chandler, eager to tell a joke to lighten the awkward mood. And, above all, he hoped it wasn't Joey, who was already asking for Rachel's phone number.

He looked, and instead saw Phoebe's bright smile. Ah, Phoebe. He hadn't even thought of her . . . and now that he was, he realized that she seemingly had nothing to do with any of this. She hadn't particularly given him advice, she hadn't teased him . . .

"Hey there," she chirped brightly, sitting down next to him. "Don't look so happy to see me or anything."

"Hey Phoebs," he offered, his voice full of his feelings. His emotions were right on his sleeve, and Phoebe took the opportunity to tug at them.

"You really loved Rachel, didn't you?", she asked in a low tone. He looked her in the eyes, and instead of seeing a comment for a comment's sake, or pity, he saw true sadness. But why?

"Yeah," he answered unsurely. "More than even I can understand."

Phoebe lightly rubbed his arm to comfort him. "She really loved you too, you know."

He looked up at her, in surprise. Rachel had said "love" in their fight, but . . . had she talked to Phoebe about this?

"Did she-"

"Yeah, she talked about it," Phoebe answered before he could even finish asking. She sensed that she'd have to do a lot of the talking. "Ross, you have no idea how completely confused this has left her. I mean, she was borderline _floopy_. She was head over heels for you!"

"But then, why didn't- why didn't she-"

"Ross, she was scared. Just like you've been. You kept coming up with excuses 'cause of your own insecurity, and that just fed _her_ insecurities. And then you guys never discussed it! I always told her that all these things she would tell me, about her feelings and you guys sleeping together-", Ross raised his eyebrows,"-Yeah, she told me. She said they were two of the most amazing nights she's ever had, Ross. But she was too scared to jump for talking about it, and when you said everything about taking things slow, she thought that meant you'd be the one to bring all this up. But you never did."

Ross looked sadly at her.

"And I can't believe you're not now," she added.

He looked up at her. Sure, his mind had been filled of different ways he could make it up to Rachel. He could find her apartment, immediately take her in his arms, throw her against a wall, and kiss her with all his might. He could find some intricate, creative way to express everything he was feeling for her, and try to take her breath away. Hell, his thoughts ranged from these complex situations to a simple "I'm sorry" card. But he was never a good one with these things, and he was always too big a coward to ever go through with them.

"She hates me, Phoebs," he said, using that as an excuse, but not being able to help feeling it was true. "I mean, I know it was just for Chandler, but I went on that date. I went on that stupid date. I didn't even get to tell her how much I love her! How, even though we haven't dated, and we've only known each other a few months, I want to be the guy! The one who protects her, takes care of her, _marries_ her. I want to wake up every morning, and look down to find her next to me. I just . . . want to go back home."

He trailed off, staring out the front window behind Phoebe's back.

"Whoa, I have a massage client in like five minutes!", Phoebe suddenly exclaimed, looking at her watch. She gathered her things, and Ross stood up at the same time as her. "I have to go! But, listen." She put her hand firmly on Ross's shoulder. "You need to face your fear. You need to _talk_ to her. You need to tell her everything you just told me."

With one more reassuring gaze, and a strong smile, Phoebe gave Ross a hug before leaving the coffee shop, her blonde hair whipping behind her in the wind.

Ross stood there, unable to move. Was Phoebe right?

Then, he heard it. That giggle of the couple that was behind him. He turned to look, and his eyebrows raised. It was the same couple as at the bar. The young man, his features dark but his look sweet and gentle. The girl, her hair golden, her eyes sparkling as he tickled her. He now saw that these two people weren't showing up in his life to make it a living hell. They were telling him something.

Something that he was now hearing, loud and clear.

-----

Rachel entered her apartment, still quite empty on her second night there. She just couldn't bring herself to unpack anything, or to attempt to make herself at "home". That would only finalize everything . . . it would feel permadent. It would mean he was officially part of the past.

She threw her keys on the counter by the door, and watched them as they slid over the surface and onto the floor. Even that wasn't right here. Nothing was.

She went to her room, pulling open the drawer that held nothing but an old pair of pajama bottoms and a tight tank top. She undressed silently, not turning on the TV to disturb the tranquility of the room. After she pulled the pants and tank top on, she retreated to the bathroom, but decided she was too tired to take a shower. She'd just do it tomorrow morning.

Sighing, she sat on the small couch in her lonely front room. She couch was small, the television was small. It was like she was making this place so unenjoyable on purpose. Maybe it was just to mirror her feelings. Maybe it was to, somehow, push her to go back.

Rather than do anything at all productive, or even mindlessly entertaining, she sat back in the couch. She closed her eyes, hoping maybe she'd just fall asleep, and let today be over.

Let tomorrow come with it's new problems and new level of hurt.

Just as she felt herself drift into an uneasy sleep, one that would no doubt be filled with dreams of "what if" and "maybes", she heard a feeble knock on the door.

Immediately, she sat up, staring in the utmost confusion. It was ten at night. Neither Phoebe nor Monica had called to say they were visiting, she hardly saw Chandler and Joey in the past few days, she didn't have many other friends . . . unless . . .

No, it couldn't be him. Monica had promised to not give out her address. Especially not to him.

But . . .

She was brought out of her thinking by another knock, this one more confident. Whoever it was, if they weren't entirely sure about coming in before, they definitely were now.

Slowly, she got up, crossing the room to answer the door. Taking the door knob into her hand, she took a deep breath. She turned it quickly, opening the door fast to get it over with.

And there he was.

-----

"Do you want to come in?", she asked weakly.

They'd been standing, her in the doorway and him in the hallway, almost an entire five minutes. Minutes full of tension, wondering, curiosity, and longing. Yet neither moved to do anything. His gaze was kept strong on her, while she was looking at anything but him. Neither knew what to do.

"No," he stated. She winced upon hearing his voice, which sounded cold and harsh.

"Then why are you here?", she asked.

"Look at me."

Slowly, she raised her head to see him. He looked terrible. He had bags under his eyes, which looked bloodshot, and his hair was windswept. His clothing looked tattered, his face held a five o'clock shadow . . . and yet, she still got the chills.

She stared at him, straight in the eyes.

"I don't care about my sister's advice, that stupid date, or any of this shit anymore. Okay? I don't care that we don't make sense. I don't care that no one, not even us, understands what the hell this is."

He seemed to be finished, but Rachel was still confused.

"Okay . . .", she answered, uncertainly. "But then why . . ." She trailed off, looking at him helplessly.

"I'm not letting you get away."

The second he said these words, they simultaneously rushed forward, meeting in the middle. Rachel threw her arms around his neck, as his went instinctively to her waist. Their lips met, surrendering into the most passionate, depraved kiss they'd ever experienced.

They staggered back into the apartment, as he kicked the door shut behind them. They hurriedly began clawing at each other's clothes, littering them around the apartment in a pile. She led them towards her bedroom as the kiss intensified, their tongues battling fiercely for control over it. All that was in Rachel's room was a mattress, which they fell onto upon entering the room.

With the soft contact, they broke the kiss. The room was dark, with no lights being on, but Ross could catch the gleam from Rachel's eyes in the soft light from her bedroom window. She was breathing heavily, staring into his eyes, delving into his very soul.

He leaned back in to kiss her again, feeling her arms slide around his middle and her hands on his back. They slowed the pace from their initial starved kissing, taking their time to relish in the fact that this was real. It was honest. It was them.

For a long while, they lay together, doing nothing more than kissing, touching, basking in each other's presence. Ross kissed everywhere he could reach, redisvocering her body and taking time to convert every slope and curve to memory. If she was tired before, she certainly was awake now . . .

They lazily made love all night, never quite ready to drift into sleep. Everytime it would end, it only gave them another reason to start again. Their bodies were exhausted, but they would not let themselves give in. Giving in was what broke them. This would make up for all that.

At one point, everything went silent. They lay next to each other on the mattress, muggy air rising in the room. Their breathing was heavy. He'd taken a deep breath before rolling back on top of her, kissing her neck up to her ear, before going back to her mouth. She raised her arms to his sides, rubbing them affectionately.

"I love you," he'd whispered. "More than you'll ever know."

"I think I know," she whispered back. "Because I do too."

With that, they'd joined as one, for the final time that night. Slowly, unendingly, in a long, dreamy haze. She hugged him close to her body, kissing his shoulder, biting his skin. They were too tired to make any noise, keeping the moment quiet and serene. He couldn't hear her, but he could feel when she'd come, and he followed in suit, collapsing on top of her, nuzzling his nose against her cheek.

He rolled to his side, letting her adjust herself so her back was to his chest. They pulled the thin sheet from the mattress around them, cuddled warmly against each other's skin. He wrapped his arms around her, protecting her, just like he always imagined. Finally, there was no fear of tomorrow. No fear of the morning after. Because the morning after, they would still this. It would still be them.

Seven months ago, Ross had seen an advertisement in the newspaper that read, "Selling something? Need something? Looking for someone? Your ad here."

Never had he known an innocent little blurb in the paper could change his life so much.

He buried his neck into the curve where her neck met her shoulder, kissing her lightly there. She bought her arms to cover his where they lay around her middle, entwining their fingers.

They finally surrendered to their fatigue, falling asleep the the rhythmatic sounds of each other's breathing, and the comfort of knowing they would both still be there when they woke up. Because now, there was no backing out.

They were home, this time for good.


End file.
